Selection Factor
by the morrighan
Summary: There is more than one new addition to Atlantis...and perhaps even a traitor.
1. Chapter 1

Selection Factor

Yellow.

The bright color was everywhere. On the clothes of the friendly inhabitants. On banners strewn across the large village in honor of their arrival. And departure. It was the color of the various foods and drinks that were offered. In the blankets and linens shoved upon them as gifts. It was the color of the leaves hanging on the expanse of trees. The flowers lining their way, dotting the paved path to the Stargate. Encircling the ground around the stone monument like chicks clustering round a mother hen.

John Sheppard was sick of the color. Sick of the planet. He held his temper, his tongue, watching the event horizon form. A shimmering circle that would transport him to Atlantis. That would transport him home. He glanced at his team, then without a word entered the matter stream.

Dirty, disheveled, disappointed he stepped into the 'Gate room. His team followed.

"What a colossal waste of my valuable time!" Rodney McKay announced loudly. In disgust he brushed dirt off his uniform, shifted his pack on his shoulder.

"If I have to endure one more festival I swear I'll shoot someone!" John agreed. "Debrief in thirty. Hell, it will only take five."

"I take it the mission was not a success?" Elizabeth Weir asked, eying them. Torn between amusement and concern. They all appeared frustrated, tired. Dirty. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Ronon Dex stated flatly. "Absolutely nothing."

Teyla Emmagan sighed. "We made fair trade, but other than that–"

"A complete and utter waste of my time!" Rodney insisted. "Why on Earth my team was selected for this mission I will never understand! There was no technology!"

"No Wraith," Ronon agreed.

"Nothing but sunshine and happiness on Planet Buttercup!" Rodney fumed. "And to make it worse we have to participate in another God-awful festival which included games! That's why we are a mess! I hate Planet Buttercup!"

"Rodney, you know how important it is to secure allies on several worlds, even if they are not as technologically advanced as we are," Elizabeth chided. "John?"

John was looking past her at the control room. Surprised that his wife had not appeared to greet him. He met her gaze. "Rodney's right. I think a lower echelon team could have handled this mission. It's more important we start exploring those other planets. The ones off the main grid, so to speak, as I suggested. So far we haven't found any more of that alien technology but that doesn't mean to say it isn't out there."

"I think it is more important to contact worlds with inhabitants, John. We've been over this before. Debrief in thirty, as you suggested. Then we can discuss this further."

"No, John's right," Rodney agreed, moving next to his friend. "Why did you take us off those missions? Granted I may have misidentified the source planet of those beings, but I will find it given time and resources. And this tech...true, I haven't been able to piece more of it together but I will, given time–"

"And resources," John continued smoothly, "which would be better spent on discovering those outer worlds then these routine meet and greets. Frankly, if these worlds can't be suitable allies to us I don't see the point of brokering alliances."

"John! Rodney! Are you telling me you both would rather chase after this useless alien tech on deserted worlds then make meaningful alliances?"

"At least we wouldn't have to endure another festival," Ronon drily commented.

"Debrief in thirty." John strode to the control room. "Chuck, locate Moira for me."

"She's in the infirmary, sir."

"The..." Instantly John whirled, took the stairs two at a time.

"Sir! She said it was a routine scan!" he called after the fleeing colonel. "Oh no."

John sprinted down the hallways. "Get out of the way!" he shouted, swerving, swinging his P90. Startling the city's inhabitants who jumped to either side of him. He ran into the infirmary, skidded to a sudden halt. Startling a nurse who dropped a tray. It clattered to the floor. Instruments clanged, flew in every direction.

Moira Sheppard was sitting on a bed, looking perfectly fine. A blue cardigan sweater enveloped her. Ponytail in place. "John? You don't have to terrorize the medical staff!" she scolded. "Didn't Chuck tell you it's just a routine scan?"

He shrugged. Sheepishly eyed the scattered instruments. "Uh, sorry. I...I took off before he could...um...sorry." He walked over to her. "Moira, I heard you were here and just..." His voice stopped as he took in her appearance.

The blue cardigan concealed most of her, but as John drew closer and she turned to him he could see the changes even her dark green shirt couldn't hide. Fuller breasts. Curving hips. A very visible baby bump at her abdomen. "It's just a routine scan, John, don't you worry. John? John, stop staring!" She drew the oversized sweater around her, suddenly self-conscious.

"Ah, colonel, impeccable timing. Moira wanted to wait until you got back but I had to insist. Since you are here now she won't be able to refuse me," Carson Beckett noted with as smile. He turned to Moira. "This is much more accurate than an ultra sound. I won't even have to lift your shirt, but that bulky sweater must be open, love."

She sighed. "Okay, Carson." She laid back, trying to relax. Hesitated. Opened the sweater. She held up her hand. "John?"

He broke from his astonishment, moved to her. Took her hand into his. "That won't hurt John junior, will it?" he asked, staring at the scanner now.

"No, John. Here we go. It's keyed to the screen there." Carson ran the scanner over her slowly. "Well, well, look at that! Looks like we have a baby in there, love. So it's not your love of French fries after all."

Moira laughed. "Good to know, Carson. Wow." She eyed the monitor near the bed.

"I don't see him," John complained, staring at the monitor.

She smirked. "There." She pointed. "There!" She watched his puzzled expression. Sighed.

"In the middle of the blurry bits, colonel. That wee little figure," Carson pointed. "A perfectly fine and healthy baby. Good, strong heartbeat. Good development. Ten fingers. Ten toes."

"Oh! There!" John exclaimed, suddenly making out the form of his son. He pointed. "Wow. He's small."

Carson laughed. "Aye, John, but he will get bigger."

"So will I," Moira noted grumpily. Carson laughed.

"Aye, so will you, love. Do you want to know the sex?"

"Yes," John and Moira chorused at the same time. They exchanged a glance.

"John...you were right after all. It's a boy." Carson shut down the scanner. "I'll print up the scan if you like. All done, Moira."

Moira sat, closing the sweater over her. "Thank you, Carson, yes, please do that." She swung her legs off the bed, nearly knocking into John who was peering at the monitor. Squinting at the tiny figure on it.

"Are you still naming him John junior then?" Carson asked.

John glanced at Moira. Was silent. She smiled. "Yes." John smiled, grinning ear to ear. She looked at Carson. "Although we still need a middle name."

"What? If he's going to be junior he will have John's middle name," the doctor argued.

"Apparently not in this galaxy. John insists that he can be a junior without his middle name, so we need to pick one. The colonel laid down some tough restrictions. No friends. No scientists. No Irish names. I have no idea what to do."

"You have plenty of time to find a name, love."

John was staring at Moira, completely thrown by the sudden enormity of impending fatherhood.

"Moira...you...you're going to have a baby," he said solemnly.

She nodded, meeting his gaze. Brows raised. "Yes, John. It's not a surprise, is it?"

"Nothing gets by our colonel," Carson jested.

John frowned. "I mean I know that! Of course I know. I'm the one who impregnated her! I just...you...you are going to have my son."

"Yes, thanks to your damn sperm," she gently teased. Shooed Carson away. John sat on the opposite bed, feeling lightheaded. His gaze roved over her. The sudden changes. The reality of seeing his son.

"John." She stood, caught his hands in hers. Kissed him. "Are you all right?"

"Huh? Yeah, sweetheart. I...sorry! I didn't mean to zone out on you. It's just...you know. Seeing you...seeing him. You...you are having my son, Moira. I...I don't know if I'm ready," he stammered. A host of self-doubt plaguing him.

She smiled. Kissed him. "You have plenty of time, sweetie. I'll give you a minute. I love you, John." She moved to Carson, took the scan he offered. Placed it in her pocket.

"Is he all right?" Carson asked, glancing back at John's unmoving form. He was staring at his hands, lost in thought.

"Yes. I think that seeing the baby just made it all too real for him. He'll be fine. You are sure the baby is okay?"

"Perfectly fine, Moira, as are you," Carson assured.

"I can safely use the 'Gate now?"

"Yes. Wee Sheppard is an individual life form now, Moira. There's no danger to him from the matter stream. So you'll be running around the galaxy again?"

She laughed. "No. Not yet. I would like to get out of the city, though. Maybe I can convince John to take me."

John was watching Moira. Staring at her. The fall of her ponytail. The blue sweater that was long enough to conceal her rear from him. He felt shell-shocked. The reality undeniable now. Thoughts cluttered in confusion. Emotions threatening. Worry. Joy. Love. He watched her turn, walk over to him. She touched his knees.

"How was the mission?"

"Huh? The what? Oh. Boring. Stupid." He touched the sweater, opened it. Ran his hands down the sides of her breasts. Cupped them. A sensual smile appeared. His hands slid down lower, gently touched her swelling abdomen. Intense warmth filled his beautiful green eyes. Tears sparkled. Moira stared at his emotional reaction, rare enough but so beautiful, so full of love and joy she opened her mouth but no words came. He raised his eyes to hers. Turned away, standing suddenly. "Something in my eye," he gruffly said. Voice thick with emotion. He wiped his eyes.

She smiled. Touched his back. "Okay, John." She caressed gently. A soothing motion of her fingers. Waited.

He turned back to her. Gaze narrowed. Oddly vulnerable. "Not a word, Moy."

"Of course not, John." She closed the sweater over her. "Don't you have a debrief? You should go and cleaned up first."

"A what? A...oh...yeah. I..." He glanced down at his dirty clothes.

"I'll meet you in the cafeteria afterwards, colonel. For lunch. Okay? John?"

"I...okay, Moira. I..."

She kissed him. "Will you be all right, John? Don't walk into any walls," she teased.

"What? I...oh, hilarious, Moira!"

"I've never seen you like this, John. So flustered and uncertain...it's absolutely adorable."

"Moira!" he scolded, embarrassed. Normally he had better mastery of his emotions, his thoughts. But both were scattering, flitting, out of control. Visible.

She smiled. Kissed him. "I love you, John." She left him.

John watched her go. Realized he should have returned the sentiment at the very least. All the things he wanted to say to her tangled on his tongue. How happy he was, how full of joy, how much he loved her. More than anyone, anything. How he had never expected any of this. Had never dared to imagine any of it. He berated himself for his silence. Headed for his room to clean up, to try to dampen his reactions. To untangle his tongue and his thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

Selection Factor2

Moira carried her tray to the table near the back of the cafeteria. Smiled at her friends as she sat. "We have to be quick." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "John's back and is meeting me here at eleven."

"Will he be on board with this?" Julie Armstrong asked. She pushed a curl of blonde hair behind her ear. Began to eat her sandwich.

"Yes. He has no love of the Ancients and does not put them on a pedestal," Moira assured. She began to eat her first sandwich. "Besides, he is halfway there. He just doesn't know it yet." The women softly laughed.

"Men," Katie Brown agreed with a grin. She sipped her coffee. "Botanically speaking, the similarities are striking. Too striking. And as far as the enzyme is concerned...well, that's not really my field, but from what I can ascertain it is biochemically different in each instance."

"Are you running these comparisons side by side?" Julie asked, stabbing her salad with a fork.

"Yes. Everything at once, so to speak." Moira ate some chips. Drank her Coke. "Evan's supplying me with the mission data, what there is of it he can find. We don't want to get too bogged down in the details. We have to sell this on generality."

"But it's the details that make it so striking," Julie argued. Shook her head. "These planets. Your backwards trajectory. The absence of life. I just don't see how the proteins work into it."

Moira sighed. "Nor do I. Yet. Hence the side by side comparison. A sidebar, if you will." She munched on some chips.

Katie smiled. "Remind me to have snacks in bio two for you." The women laughed.

Moira sighed. "Yes, please. Lots." The women laughed again.

John trudged to his room. Dropped his pack on the floor. He had left his P90 and TAC vest in the armory. He froze. Stared at the new appliance near the table. He smiled. It was a mini-fridge, red and silver. He walked over to it. Squatted in front of it. Ran his hand along it. "Ah, baby, what have you done?" he muttered happily. Opened it. Grinned. It was full of all kinds of beverages. Beer. Lots of beer. Pop. Lemonade. Water. He grabbed a beer, downed half of it in quick swallows. Sat back on his haunches and surveyed the rest of the contents. Several wrapped sandwiches with letters marking them. T. C. H. BLT. He wondered at their labels. Apples. Pears. Strawberries. He opened the tiny freezer drawer. Saw ice. Ice cream. Popsicles. He laughed. Stood, closing the door, beer in one hand. He looked round but didn't see any other changes. Nothing else new.

Sipping his beer he walked into their room. Stopped. Stared. There was a big bed where theirs had been. It was higher, longer, wider. A dark green comforter draped to the floor. Upon it was folded a lovely green and blue plaid blanket that matched the pillow shams. Upon the pillows perched the little white bear with green hearts that he had given her. John smiled. He set the beer on the table. Sat on the bed. Bounced. Grinned. He laid back, exclaimed happily. The support and comfort enfolded him, welcomed him like a lover. "Ah baby," he enthused. Wondered how long she had been planning this. How she had cajoled Caldwell to deliver it, the marines to move it in for her.

He rolled onto his stomach. Scooted up to the pillows. "Ah Moira, Moira," he purred. Stretching languidly, sprawling. "Oh shit!" Suddenly remembering how dirty he was he leapt off the bed. Laughed and straightened the blankets, the comforter. Imagining Moira's ire.

He grabbed the beer, sat on the bed again. Impressed. Surprised. Consumed by thoughts of his wife. His visibly pregnant wife. His child, revealed by the scan. Their son. He sipped the beer, feeling overwhelmed again. A rush of emotions. He looked round the room to distract himself. Saw nothing else new. Saw the broken headboard in a corner. Grinned. Turned to see the new bed's brass headboard. Elegant curves and two posts. He looked at the table. Noted the lack of roses. Instead there were piles of books and folders.

He drained the beer. Moved back to his room to quickly get clean. To wash his hands and his face. To pull on cleaner clothes. He hastened to the conference room, smiled his apology. Sat.

More people had entered the cafeteria. Moira licked her lips. Finishing her first sandwich. "I'll present the preliminary data, once I find an opportunity."

Katie smiled. "There's no rush, Moira. Take your time. John just returned from back to back missions, didn't he? Spend some time with him." She paused, eying her friend's sandwich. " I suppose as cravings go that's not too bad." She indicated the food.

Moira shrugged. "I guess." She drank some Coke to hide her smile. Feeling other cravings stir at her husband's return. She ignored them.

"How are you feeling?" Julie asked. Taking the hint to change the subject to something more mundane.

"Fine. Apart from having sore feet, a sore back, and the occasional emotional roller coaster." The women laughed. "And being tired at the worst times. And not sleeping. Although we do seem to get our best work done at two in the morning, don't we?"

"Yes. But I suspect that will change now that John is here," Katie noted.

Julie nodded. "I doubt he'll let you sneak off to our little lair, will he?"

Moira smiled. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him." They laughed. "No, he'll be fine. Trust me. I can explain it to him." She pondered how to approach him. "The real problem is the men."

"So what else is new?" Julie quipped. Laughter. "How so?"

"They treat me like I'm made of glass! Especially now that I'm, I'm showing!" Moira complained. "Except Rodney. When he's here he treats me like a science experiment."

"Moira! Really?" Katie asked, but was not surprised at the behavior of her boyfriend.

She smiled. "Yes. Because of the increased ATA gene. It fascinates Rodney to no end, the systems I can activate and control. At least he doesn't think I'll break. And Evan. Evan treats me like he always has. He's the only one who isn't uncomfortable around me."

Katie laughed. "You know how men are, Moira. Around pregnant women they become nervous or scared. Or both." They laughed. "And let's face it, you are the first woman here to become pregnant. Talk about pressure."

"Yeah, thanks for that, Katie," Moira quipped. They laughed again.

"What about John?" asked Julie. "Let me guess. He's the worst, isn't he?"

"John?"

"Huh?" John blinked. He straightened in the chair. Realized he had been lost in his own little world again. Moira. John junior. Everyone was staring at him. Expressions of amusement. Curiosity. Annoyance on Rodney's part. "Sorry. I...um...what?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Planet Buttercup, as you so nicely named it. We were talking about the inhabitants. The," she glanced down at her notes, "the odd preponderance of yellow."

"Oh. Right. Yeah, there was a lot. Of yellow." He shrugged. Suddenly recalled Moira's odd observations. About a thing. A thing Elizabeth had for him. He met her gaze as it was traveling up and down him. He shifted, uncomfortable. "Sorry. Rodney, can you run the debrief? I'm not feeling too good right now. Excuse me." He left the room before anyone could ask or voice concern.

He entered the cafeteria, saw Moira sitting with two other women, way in the back. Heard their gentle laughter. He smiled. Neared slowly, watching her.

"He's what, then? Come on, Moira, spill it!" Katie urged. "Don't tell me he treats you the same!"

"No. Not at all. Well, sometimes...he's...John...well, John is..." Moira smiled, trying to find the right words but not revealing his emotional reaction to her. Keeping that close, that flourish of emotion, of love, of joy that was just for her. Just for their son. "John's..."

"Perfect?" John supplied with a smile, reaching them. "I hope you were going to say perfect, Moira," he teased.

Moira smirked. "Of course, John. What else could I possibly say?" The women laughed.

Katie and Julie stood. "We should be getting back. You'll be down?"

"Yes, later."

John nodded at the two women. Sat across from his wife. Quizzically eyed her second sandwich as she took a bite. "What is that?"

"Cucumber and Swiss cheese. Want some?" she asked round a mouthful.

"No, no thanks," he said, making a face.

She laughed. "It's not that weird!"

"No, not at all," he agreed, giving her a funny look. Smiled.

"Shouldn't you be at the debrief?" she asked.

"No." He raised a brow, seeing a beer bottle on her tray. "Taking up drinking too?"

"No. You look like you need one, colonel. Unless...you already had one?"

He smiled, took the beer. "There's no rule that says I can't have another."

"So...you liked the um, improvements?"

"Yes. Yes! That was brilliant, Moira! Our own fridge! Fully stocked! You're a genius! And the bed...wow...the bed!" he enthused.

She smiled. "Well, you are always going on and on about wanting a bigger, better bed."

"It's fantastic! I can't wait to test it out. To sleep, I mean," he quickly clarified. Drank suddenly. "How the hell did you manage all of that?"

Moira shrugged. "Oh, I had it on order for awhile. Steven was kind enough to bring it here for me on his last trip."

"Ah. And the marines who moved it?"

"Yes, well, I had Evan rally the troops, so to speak. Once they heard it was for Colonel Sheppard they happily helped do the moving. Set up the new bed for me. Moved my old one into your room and put your old bed into storage. Since you prefer my old mattress to yours. Of course the pizza and beer party afterwards was the real incentive. Quite a motivator, actually. You should consider using that next time you need to rally the troops."

"I see. I bet it had nothing to do with the pizza and beer and everything to do with you, Moy," he commented fondly.

She shook her head. "No. It was the pizza and the beer."

He laughed at her serious tone. "If you say so, sweetheart."

"And it was all on my dime, so you–"

"Moira, my dime is now your dime," he chastised.

"I know that, sweetie. Your dime is going to pay for all of the baby things we need."

"Oh. It is?"

She laughed at his expression. "Afraid so, colonel. We can discuss all of that later. And how we're going to convince Steven to empty a cargo hold for us." She chuckled at his pained expression. Shoved a sandwich at him. "Eat. It's turkey. Perfectly safe. Why aren't you at the debrief?" she asked again.

John unwrapped the sandwich. Took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed. "There was no need. I...I couldn't even concentrate. You...our son...we just saw John junior, Moy. You're having my son."

She smiled. "This isn't news, John. Wow...you are so cute when you are–"

"Stop it, Moy. No teasing!" He ate. Drank.

Moira relented. Finished her food, her drink. Noted his wandering gaze, his stare. She sighed fondly. "Go ahead. Ask."

"Ask what?"

"You wouldn't be John Sheppard if you didn't ask."

"Ask what?" he repeated, gaze glancing up at her face before inevitably lowering once more. Trying to see past the bulky sweater.

She considered. Charmed by his genuine puzzlement. Sudden shyness. "Did you notice the headboard?"

"Yeah. In the corner."

"I thought you might want the old one as a souvenir." He laughed. "You were so proud when we broke it, colonel. The new one is made of brass. Did you notice? Very sturdy. Very strong, not likely to break no matter how hard or how often it may hit the wall. And those lovely twin bedposts? Strong enough, say, oh, I don't know, strong enough for me to tie up someone, or to hold onto tight. Real tight." She tilted her head coyly at him.

He met her gaze, smiled at her hints. Her flirtation. "Really?"

"Yes. I'm just saying...so...ask." She waited. Waited as he considered. Gaze lowering. "And if you could manage to look at my face that would be nice."

He met her gaze, smirked. "Oh! Sorry. I just wonder what you are hiding. Exactly. You didn't look like this when I left."

"No. It just sort of...happened," she agreed. Pulling the sweater around her, self-conscious. "John?"

"Ask...oh! You mean sex!"


	3. Chapter 3

Selection Factor3

Moira snorted. "John, ssh!" she scolded at his raised voice. His eyes sparkling with realization. Interest.

"So...sex?" he asked, voice lower now.

"Here? Now? In the cafeteria? Naughty colonel!" she scolded with a smirk.

"Moira!" he chided.

She smiled. "Yes. Fine. Um...later along I think Sheppard's delight would be the most, um, comfortable um, position. But I'm sure you'll figure out various um, positions for the best, um, the best tactical advantages. Colonel? Colonel Sheppard, are you blushing?"

"Shut up, Moy," he chided, suddenly embarrassed. A rush of sexual desire was making him tense. Hungry. He drank deeply.

Moira laughed softly. "Wow. John...this is fascinating."

"Glad I amuse you, baby," he sourly replied.

"Tactical advantages?" Rodney pulled up a chair, set down his tray. "I thought you weren't feeling well. Instead I find you here, boring Moira with military talk?"

Moira sighed. "Yes. John's trying to figure out the best ways to storm the gates, or to penetrate the center, isn't that right, John?" She stood, moved round to him. "Oh. Here. I thought you might want this." She set the scan down near his beer. Leaned close and kissed his cheek. "I love you, John," she whispered. Straightened. "I've got work to do. See ya."

"Moira?" John half rose, but regained his seat. Lifted the scan and stared at it. Chiding himself again for not telling her how he felt. All the emotions choked back in him. Leaving him silent.

"What's that?" Rodney pointed, but his gaze moved to follow Moira.

"A scan. Of my son."

"A scan of...oh oh! That's why you are so...wow! Moira. Moira looks...my God! She looks pregnant, John!"

John smiled, met his friend's startled gaze. "That's because she is."

"Well, I know that! But now she's...she's pregnant, John," he could only dumbly repeat.

"Yes, Rodney," he agreed, amused as his own stunned reaction was mirrored by his friend. "Look. Right here. John junior." He showed the scan. Pointed.

"Where? Are you sure?" Rodney eyed the picture.

"Yes, I'm sure!" John snapped. "Here!" He pointed. Peered. Frowned. "I think."

"Ah ha! See? You don't see it either!"

"Him! I don't see...oh yes I do! Here!" John pointed again. "John junior." He pocketed the scan. Stood. "Gotta go." Left. Returned. Grabbed his beer. Left the table again to Rodney's amusement.

John entered their room. Eyed the new bed. The gleaming brass headboard. He recalled her teasing words. He looked at the table, noticed a pair of photos framed in rustic wood. Candid shots of him in his tuxedo. From their last trip to Earth. Their sixth-month anniversary. It suddenly struck him that he didn't have any photos of Moira. Apart from the risque ones. He grinned, imagining her reaction if he were to print one and frame it. He laughed aloud, tempted to do just that. Just to see her reaction. But he frowned. He didn't have any regular photos of her. Not even a wedding photo. There had been no time, even as brief and concise as the ceremony had been. Slowly he finished his beer, resolved to talk to Moira.

Moira sat back from the microscope, rubbed her back. Plants surrounded her on the table. A forest of greenery. "Damn it! I wish we had even a smidgen of that moss left for viable comparison."

"Well, we don't. Parrish took it all, remember?" Katie sighed. "Maybe it's for the best. The last thing we need is someone else becoming addicted to it."

"True," Moira agreed. Removed the slide and put it away, gesturing as the room filled with other botanists. "We'll leave the rest for bio two. Rocks?"

Julie joined them, shook her head. "Still in lock-up, but I can wrangle the key. I'll tell you one thing, it's not granite or quartz. Another piece of the puzzle, maybe. Oh shit. What's this?"

"I give up!" a woman declared, hands in the air. Followed by a group of women laughing and chattering all at once. "How can we even begin to plan a wedding shower in the Pegasus galaxy? There's nothing out here!" The women laughed.

"At least she won't be receiving any toasters!" Laughter ensued.

"Well, what can we do? We have limited resources, no shopping malls! Nothing! No wonder you didn't want one, Moira!" Julie noted with a smile, a nod.

Moira shrugged, nodded in return. "Besides that, there was no point. I'm already married."

"Ah...that's it!" Another clapped her hands. "Moira! We need supplies. Proper gifts for a bridal shower. Surely you have some pull with the military commander of Atlantis?"

"Who? Me?" Moira asked, as if shocked. The women laughed.

"I'd say she has more than some pull," Katie joked. Laughter.

"Katie!" Moira scolded. "That's not his jurisdiction. General supplies fall under Weir."

"But you could sort of slip it into his supply chain, couldn't you? Speed things along? You know," a woman winked. Laughter.

Moira shook her head, smiled. "No. As much as I wouldn't mind persuading him..." Laughter. "It is not under his purview. Besides, I've already pushed my luck with that bed and the fridge. Which is still hush hush."

"Of course! The party sure wasn't!" Laughter. "Maybe we could put it under science expenditures."

"Katie!" Moira exclaimed. "You could get Rodney to approve it. Place it under his supply list. Which goes directly to John. Who almost always approves it without looking too closely at it. Follow the chain of command."

"Brilliant, Moira! Katie, that is your mission!" Julie agreed.

"My...oh, I don't know. I don't know if I can persuade Rodney to do that. He is really possessive over his supply list," Katie explained gravely.

"Oh come on!" Julie urged. "You can find some way to persuade him, can't you?" Laughter.

"Julie!" Katie exclaimed, blushing.

"Maybe Moira can," one suggested.

"Me? I'm just a science experiment to him." Laughter.

The women suddenly fell silent. All turning, staring at the doorway. "Colonel?" one ventured.

John had been only half-listening to their words. Curious at the three women closeted together, talking almost secretively, then their sudden change as they had been joined by the rest. He was amused at the levity. Attracted by their laughter. Until he had gotten a clear view of Moira. She was sitting on a stool, leaning forward slightly. The blue sweater was folded on the table next to her. A green t-shirt hugged her figure, revealing every curve, every swell, every dip. Outlining her fuller breasts. The baby bump visible. The khaki pants hugging her rear. John was captivated, aroused seeing the extent of her voluptuousness.

"John!" Moira colored at his lascivious, probing scrutiny. She jumped off the stool and pulled on the sweater. She wrapped it tightly around her, pulling it down to conceal her hips, her rear.

John felt a rush of desire, of lust. He itched to get her alone. To undress her. To see. To touch. To taste. He licked his lips, trying to imagine how she would look. Feel. Taste.

Moira stepped to him. "John!" she snapped. "What do you want?"

He met her gaze. "You. I mean," he paused, his voice low, husky. Too revealing. "I need to talk to you, Moira. Now. Please," he added, feeling the stares of the women on him.

She sighed. "Okay, John." She took his arm, drew him to a corner. "What is–"

He smiled. "No. Privately," he clarified. "I need to talk to you privately."

"Privately? Oh." She frowned. "Fine." She freed his arm, moved to the watching women. "I'm being requisitioned, I'm afraid. I'll be back ASAP." Laughter. She returned to John. "Come on, then, colonel." She led him out of the botany lab. "What is it?"

"What were you talking about in there, Moy?" he asked, strolling beside her. Eyes straying to her profile, mostly hidden now by the sweater.

She glanced at him. "Nothing. Evelyn. She's a nurse. She is engaged to Gregory. A technician. Her friends want to throw her a bridal shower, but out here that's a daunting task. Lower echelon stuff, John, nothing to worry your pretty head about."

"Lower echelon?" he asked.

"What do you need to discuss, John?" she asked as they entered their room. "Is it the bed? Because we can move it into yours if you prefer. I know you still want some of your autonomy so I kept it in mine, well ours."

"Autonomy?" he asked, but Moira continued as if she hadn't heard him.

"Ours, since I think of this room as ours because you sleep here with me. So I thought the big bed would be better suited here unless you want to move it into yours but since you want to keep some autonomy I do think it's better that we–"

"Autonomy?" he repeated. He caught her arm, turned her gently to him, catching her other arm. "Moy, slow down. What do you mean? And what was that earlier? Are you planning an uprising, Moira?" he asked.

Moira inwardly cursed her husband's observational skills. "Yes, John, I am planning a mutiny. Just science stuff. Now, it's all right, sweetie. It doesn't bother me, I'm just saying it makes more sense for the big bed we share to be in here like the fridge makes sense in yours–"

He kissed her suddenly, stopping her monologue. Gently drew her into his arms. Kissing her repeatedly, slowly. Sweet, long kisses until he heard her murmur, her melting sigh of surrender. He drew back from her. Met her gaze. "Better?"

"Yes, thank you. I...I couldn't stop. I–"

He kissed her again. "I noticed, baby. I guess I will just have to keep kissing you. Sit." He led her to the bed. Sat.

"Oh! I have to show you!" She moved to the dresser.

He frowned. "Moira! I need to talk to you."

"In a minute, John. I had this specially made. I thought you'd get a kick out of it. It's our first baby thing."

"Baby thing?" he asked, puzzled. Curious at her strange mood. Her nervousness. Her seeming reluctance to be with him.

She moved to him. Smiled. Held up a small white t-shirt. Small enough for a child. A toddler. A drawing in blues and golds depicted Atlantis. Gleamed on the fabric. Beneath was a legend in blue lettering.

"Future commander of Atlantis," John read aloud. He smiled. Laughed. Took the shirt from her and grinned. "Damn right."

She smiled. "I knew you'd like it!" She sat next to him. "It's from a teddy bear."

"A what?"

"A teddy bear. Julie has a teddy bear. This shirt was perfect. We only had to trim the sleeves. Evan drew the design of the city. He's quite a talented artist, did you know? I thought up the slogan. Radek used an Ancient device to laser it on. I know, I know, it's not an appropriate or authorized use of Ancient technology but I think the military commander would look the other way. Just this once. John?"

He smiled. "I love it. I love you, Moy." He met her gaze, becoming serious. "Look, I'm not...very good at this stuff. I....mean I..."

She kissed him. Stood. "I'm glad you like it, John. I've got to return to–"

"No. Moira, wait!" He caught her hands. "Are you trying to avoid me now?"

"What? No, of course not, John, don't be silly!"

"Then sit that pert little ass down and listen to me!"

She relented, sat next to him. Waited. Waited.


	4. Chapter 4

Selection Factor4

John was staring down at their clasped hands. He eyed the baby shirt again. Eyed their hands. Hers resting in his. The glint of their gold wedding rings. Thoughts and emotions tangling yet again.

Moira smiled. "John?" she softly prompted. "You wanted to tell me something?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." He met her gaze. "Do you...do you feel cheated?" he asked, approaching from a different angle.

"I...cheated? I don't understand."

"Why didn't you want a bridal shower? A baby shower, even? Elizabeth offered."

She shrugged. "I didn't want one. Either one. What would be the point? I'm already married. And as for the baby, well...I'd rather you and I handle all of that. Getting things."

"But I had a bachelor party and was already married," he reminded.

"True, but yours was also a we survived the ATA Wraith celebration. Two parties in one. After that you guys needed to cut loose. Although you cut a little too loose."

"Yeah. Don't remind me," he agreed, running a hand through his hair. Recalling how plastered he had been. So plastered that he had almost let another woman take advantage, suck him off until Moira had intervened. "Seriously, Moy, do you? Feel cheated, I mean? Take those photos." He pointed. "I don't have any photos of you. Well, none that I can frame or even take with me on missions."

"So? You see me now, don't you?" she asked, puzzled. "I need those photos of you when you are not here," she explained.

"And I don't? I want a photo of you, Moy. We don't have any wedding photos," he complained.

She sighed. "So? Not that again," she commented.

"Do you feel like we, we rushed the whole thing? I mean, do you... Moira..." He caressed her fingers in his, voice grave, expression serious, "do you want a proper wedding?"

"Proper?" She eyed him coyly. "John Sheppard, are you trying to tell me that our wedding didn't count and now that you've gone and knocked me up you feel the need to really marry me?"

"No! We are really...oh hilarious, Moira! I'm serious, damn it! Do you want a proper wedding? The white gown, the flowers, the whole nine yards?" he asked angrily. Embarrassed at his feelings. Her amusement.

"No," she answered calmly. Perplexed at his attitude. "What would be the point, John? By the time we even managed to get all of that it will look like a shotgun wedding! It would! Do you want John junior to see that wedding photo? Please! I thought we agreed, no excess, no foo-foo, no silly–"

"You could still fit a wedding dress, Moira. And none would be the wiser," he argued, opening the sweater. But she smacked his hand away, closing the material. "Ow!"

"No. What is with you, John? We're married, all right? Baby on the way. I don't feel cheated, John. Do you? As long as I have you, as long as I have your love I'm happy. All right?" She kissed him. "I love you, John, only you. Not the rest. Nothing matters but you. Now, colonel, I really do have a lot of work so–"

"No!" He caught her before she could rise, move away from him. "Moira, I still...I want a photo," he stated.

"No, John. Not when I look like this! Now let go so I can–"

"Like this?" He pulled her gently closer. "By this you mean so beautiful I can't even articulate how I feel? By this you mean so voluptuous you make my mouth water? My cock aches to be in you, baby. I want–"

"John!" She colored. "Please! You don't mean that. Look, obviously you are overcome by seeing the scan, I understand that. You don't have to hide it from me, sweetie. Or pretend that you are still attracted to me like that. So–"

"What? I'm not pretending. I am attracted. Very." He turned her face to his. Kissed her. "Moira...I love you."

She smiled. Touched by his utter sincerity, his warmth. "And I love you, John, now–"

"No. You don't understand, Moira. I love you. Look..." His gaze lowered to their hands again. He licked his lips, oddly nervous. "I'm not good at this. You know that. I mean...I'm getting better, with you. I...I can't tell you. How I feel. How happy I am with you, Moira. Moira, I'm in love with you still. I mean, I love you more now than I did before and I didn't think that was even possible. I didn't think I could love you more...I mean, I...you...you are everything to me. Moira, you. John junior. I never thought I'd have any of this. Ever. And I know you feel the same...we...you...I..." he stammered, stopped.

Moira smiled. Felt tears. Lifted his face to hers. "I love you too, John." She kissed him. "It's all right, John. I know. But it is nice to hear."

"No. I can say it better this way, baby." He kissed her. A slow, languorous kiss. Another. Another. Gliding his tongue into her mouth.

Moira murmured, lost herself in his kisses. Found herself on her back suddenly. John's mouth moving across her cheek to nibble her earlobe. His hand opening the sweater. Sliding along her side. "John?"

"Moira, my Moira," he whispered, kissing down her throat. Pressing close, so close. Hand sliding across to gently fondle a breast. Caress the nipple into hardness. His mouth took hers again. Fingers playing across her breasts. Cupping. Caressing. She moaned, gently pushed him back.

"John?"

"Yes, baby." He kissed her. "You did say sex was fine."

"Yes, I...I mean...I...you...I didn't think you'd want to have, have sex with, with, with me," she stammered, flustered.

"Always with you," he soothed. "Baby, I can hardly keep it down. I want to make love to you, Moira. Explore every luscious part of you."

"John! John, you...really? I mean...I..." She whimpered as his hand slid between her legs. Caressing. "Oh John...John..."

"Any cravings I can assuage, baby? Anything at all?" he teased, kissing her.

But she pushed him. Flustered. Embarrassed. "No. I mean...tonight! Tonight, John. In, in the dark. The dark." She appeared close to tears.

He kissed her. "Tonight? All right, sweetheart." He relented. Reluctantly freeing her to sit. "Whatever you want, Moira. Whatever you wish."

She sat, pulling the sweater almost savagely around her. Shifted, wanting him. Aching for him but embarrassment halted her desire. "I...I..."

"Is that why you are so covered up, Moira?" he asked. "Is anyone bothering you? I'll take care of it, I promise."

"No. Nothing, nothing like that...I...I...I...have work!" She scrambled off the bed. Rushed out of the room.

John sighed. Amused but frustrated. Concerned. Knew the men would be looking at her, noticing. He couldn't blame them really, as long as they didn't upset her. Approach her. He debated how to proceed. How to calm her nerves. To relax her. He smiled. To seduce her.

Moira sat in the bio lab, sweater wrapped tightly around her. She stared at nothing. Upset. Thinking of John. Wanting him but uncertain. Hesitant. Charmed by his words, his stumbling declarations of love, devotion. Joy over the baby. But she was reluctant to be with him. Intimately. Although her bodily changes seemed to turn him on even more than before. It should have reassured her but it didn't.

She wiped her eyes, frustrated. Angry. Uneasy at the changes in her body, her appearance. At the same time longing for her husband. His touch. His kisses. His loving attentions. The pleasure that was vibrant, exuberant between them.

"Moira? Are you all right?"

She looked over as Julie neared, concern on her face.

"Yes. Fine. Hormones." She sighed. "John. John, he, um, he...wants me."

"Wants you? Wants...oh." Julie smirked. "Well, Doctor Sheppard, most if not all women would welcome that."

"I know! I...look at me! I'm not exactly, you know." Moira sighed, shook her head. "I mean, once he sees me...he'll–"

"Salivate like a dog in heat, trust me," Julie commented.

"Julie!" Moira exclaimed, blushing.

"Please! Isn't he like that now? Trust me, you have nothing to fear. He loves you, right? Wants you in a real bad way, probably. Enjoy it, Moira. You've got such a hold on him now."

"I do?" She considered, expression serious. "Oh. I just wish...I just wish I,.damn it, I'm only going to get bigger."

Julie laughed. "Yes, you are. So enjoy it now, Moira, while you can be reasonably comfortable. Come on. Let's do some work so you can relax. And keep him waiting."

John stood in the bathroom, fussing with his hair. He turned his head this way and that. Fingers mussing the dark brown strands. Arranging. Strands going in every direction. He ran a hand over his stubbled chin. Splashed a dash of cologne onto his skin. Undid one more button of his shirt. Smoothed down his slacks. He smirked. He had never taken this much trouble when he had been dating Moira. But now he had to proceed slowly. She was obviously skittish about renewing their intimacy. Uncomfortable with her bodily changes.

John sighed, shifted. Nearly salivating at the chance to get her into bed. To get her naked. To explore every dip and swell of her curves. He fussed with his hair again. Stepped to the comm unit on the wall. "Attention all Atlantis personnel. This is Colonel Sheppard. Would Moira Sheppard report to our quarters immediately? I repeat, Moira Sheppard needs to report to our quarters immediately!" He crossed into their room. Waited. Waited.

"John?" The voice in his ear startled him.

"Huh? Elizabeth?" he asked, tapping the earpiece.

"What's going on?"

"Um, nothing. I just need to see my wife, is all. We have a lot of things to discuss." He eyed the bed. The gleaming headboard.

"Don't forget we have a meeting at–"

"Yeah, about that. Don't think I'm going to make it. Sorry. Sheppard out." He tapped the earpiece, cutting off her protest. Scowled. Waiting for his wife.

Moira was jerked out of her research by John's voice on the PA. She sighed, glanced at her friends who were looking at her, amused. "Shit. What the hell does he want now?" She tapped her earpiece. "John? Copy? Sweetie?"

John smiled. Tapped his earpiece. "Moira, copy. Baby. Get that pert little ass here now."

"John! What is it now? I'm really busy here and I was just going to break for dinner so you–"

"Doing what, plotting your mutiny? Fine. Come here first and we can go to dinner."

"Why can't you just meet me in the cafeteria?" she asked, annoyed.

"No, Moira. I need you here." He thought fast. "I sort of, um, well, broke the...not broke, not exactly but I might have damaged the...just get your pert little ass here! Sheppard out!"

"John? Fine!" Moira swore, tapped the earpiece. Eyed her friends. "He's done something. I don't know what, but don't wait for me. Stupid man!" The women laughed as she left.

John smiled at her exasperated tone. He took off the earpiece. Stepped into the bathroom to be out of sight. He waited for her. Glanced at his preparations again. Anticipated.


	5. Chapter 5

Selection Factor5

Moira strode into their room. "John! John, what the hell did you do now? I was right in the middle of something important and I..." She froze. Gasped. Soft music was playing. Candles flickered on the table. It was clear of her books and folders which were haphazardly stacked on the floor. Instead dozens and dozens of roses adorned the table. Reds. Pinks. Whites. Two covered plates emitted delicious aromas. A bottle of beer and a half-filled wine glass stood sentinel. She smiled. Then frowned. Suspicious. "John? Do you have a date? I'll get out of your way," she teased. Guessing his motives.

"Hilarious, Moira." He stepped out of the bathroom. Gave her his best slow smile. The one that made women melt. Practically fall at his feet. His gaze caressing her. "I thought we could have a nice dinner here. Privately."

Moira stared. A black woven shirt was generously unbuttoned, giving her an enticing view of his chest hair. It was tucked into a pair of black slacks that were molded to his form, emphasizing his lean, long build. Also his attributes as he moved. Tousled hair deliciously messy. Shadows of stubble enhancing his handsome face, the strong lines. She felt a rush of desire, love, lust. Looked at the floor to drown the emotions. To disable them. "What is this?" She met his gaze. "Another page out of John Sheppard's book of seduction?"

He smiled. Pulled out a chair. Gestured to it. "Page three. Please join me, Moira."

"Um..." She glanced down at her plain clothing. "I'm not really dressed for such a fancy, extravagant–"

"You are beautiful. Sit."

She frowned. "Are you sure you're not expecting some other woman to–"

"No. Sit. I'm starving! Ravenous, actually." The glint in his brilliant green eyes suggested he wasn't just talking about food.

She swallowed. Moved to the chair. Sat. "Um...John?"

He sat next to her. Uncovered the plates with a flourish. "Steak. Potatoes. Rolls. I was told half a glass of wine won't do any harm. You need to relax, Moy. Stop working so damn much. I'm here now. We are celebrating."

"Celebrating?" she asked, watching him.

"Yes. Celebrating the scan of John junior." He lifted the beer bottle.

She smirked. "Oh no. You're not going to try to make a toast, are you?"

"No." He drank.

She smiled. Sipped some wine. "Wow...to go to all of this trouble you must really want to bang me bad."

John did a spit take. She laughed as beer flew across the table, spraying the flowers. He coughed, set the bottle down. Wiped his mouth. "Shit! Moira Sheppard!" he scolded.

"It's true, isn't it?" she asked sweetly. "Damn, John, if I wasn't so...um...awkward I'd be all over you right now." Her gaze drifted over him. The black sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his forearms. The pants smoothly gliding over his lap. Snug on his thighs, his crotch.

"Hush! Eat your dinner. I want to talk to you, Moira. Get your mind out of the bedroom," he scolded sternly. But a smirk stole across his lips.

She smiled. "But we are in the bedroom, sweetie."

"Moira, shut up and eat!" She laughed. He smiled. They ate companionably. Enjoying the food. John sat back, sipping his beer. Pushed his empty plate aside. Eyes on her as she finished her dinner. Assessing. Anticipating. Candlelight glimmered on her. "Moira...I've been thinking..."

"Oh oh, see! You think we are having too much sex? I did try to–"

"No. Not that. The last month of your pregnancy. We are going to spend it on Earth."

"On Earth?" she repeated, sitting back with a contented sigh.

"Yes. I want you to have the best. The very best. The best doctors. The best hospital. Nothing against Carson but he's not a specialist in this. You are going to have the most modern care I can provide. For you and John junior. Not that I think anything is going to go wrong. I don't want to scare you, sweetheart. I just want the absolute best for you."

"Oh. Okay, John. I...I think I would prefer it that way," she agreed.

"Good. I was thinking that last month we can go shopping and get all the baby things we will need here."

"You don't want your son born here? In Pegasus?" she asked, curious.

"No. I know it might sound snobbish but I want my son born on my home planet. In America like we were. And you safely in the best hospital under the best care."

"Okay, John. Um...can you take that much time off? I mean, I mean it might be another month or even two before we can, can return here. With, with the baby."

"Not a problem, sweetheart," he soothed. "I'm going to be there for you and for John junior. Oh, and another thing," he added, pointing at her as she sipped her wine, "what was all that talk about my autonomy? What's mine is yours, sweetheart. All of it. Whether you want it or not."

She smiled. "I know that, John. I just meant...you know. The room. Your room. As opposed to this. Our room."

"Okay...so you're saying since I sleep with you here I should move in?" he asked, puzzled.

"No. I mean, you are already moved in. I just meant you like to have your own space. So do I. You know."

"So now you want me to move out?"

"No! I mean that I didn't move the new bed into your room because it is yours. This room is ours."

"It was yours."

"Yes, but it is ours when I moved in here. Why are you making this complicated?"

"Me? It's all ours, Moy." He gestured expansively. "All of it. Yours. Mine. All ours. Do you want me to move all of my stuff into here?"

"No! I'm just saying–"

"'Cause I will if that's what you want, baby. I will clutter this room with all of my stuff and shove my undies in with yours. Hey, that's not such a bad idea, actually. Come to think of it."

"John!" she scolded, smirking. "That's not what I meant!"

"Then tell me what you meant, baby, because I am confused now. Do you want me or not?"

"Of course I want you! I just meant your stuff, your privacy, your–"

"Privacy? I've got nothing to hide from you, baby. Everything is yours." He stood. Held out his hand. "Shall we?"

"Huh? We're still arguing," she complained.

"Shall we?" he repeated. "I'm sure you can multi-task, baby."

She laughed. Slipped her hand into his. Stood. "I don't want to keep you from your date, colonel."

"Cute." He drew her close, arms encircling her. Swayed slowly to the music. "A nice slow dance, Moira."

"John..." she said, enchanted. She smiled. Hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders.

He drew her closer, kissing her. Felt her relaxing in his arms. He kissed down her throat. Up to her ear. "I love you, Moira," he intoned low. Kissed her again. Slow, sweet kisses, his mouth lingering on hers. Hands gently caressing her back against the sweater. Kiss after kiss, slowly becoming more passionate, more sensual. He heard her murmur, sigh, kiss him in growing response. Her lips opening to his. He had just slid his tongue into her mouth as his hands slid down to grasp her rear when a man's voice intruded over the PA.

"Colonel Sheppard, please respond. Colonel Sheppard, do you copy?"

Moira broke the kiss, startled. Disappointed. "You–"

"No. Don't move." He freed her, stepped away to the comm unit. "This is Sheppard. I gave direct orders not to be disturbed," he reminded gruffly. Anger palpable. "What part of do not disturb didn't you understand?"

"Uh, sorry, sir, I...I.... that is, they are requesting your presence in the conference room," the voice stammered.

"Who?" he snapped. Glanced back. Moira was moving to the table. She extinguished the candles one by one.

"Doctor Weir, sir, she–"

"Sheppard out." He turned. "Moy, I'm not leaving. Don't move, baby."

"You have to go, sweetie. It's all right. I should be working in the–"

"No. Don't you move, baby. Back in a sec." He strode into his room, snatched his earpiece. Irritated. "Elizabeth, copy?"

"John, where are you?" Elizabeth's voice came over the earpiece, sounding annoyed. "We are discussing next month's rotation and I need your input to–"

"No." He glanced at the open threshold between the rooms. Lowered his voice. "Look, Elizabeth, I can't. Not now. Moira and I are having a quiet dinner together. We just saw our first scan of John junior."

"Oh. Congratulations, John, but once you are through there I need you here to–"

"No. I'll go over that stuff tomorrow. All right? This is a big thing for us. I need to be with Moira now. We have a lot of things to discuss. Important things. Sheppard out." He cursed. Put the earpiece on his dresser, knowing he would more than likely get an earful in the morning. Didn't care. He sighed. Knew he'd have to start all over again with Moira. Just when he had almost had here where he wanted her. He turned suddenly. Noted the silence. She had turned off the music. He returned to their room. Saw her putting the plates on a tray, intending to take them back to the cafeteria. "Moira, no!" He strode to her, taking the tray and setting it on the table. "I'm not leaving!"

"It's all right, John. Go. It was a lovely dinner. Really! I'll see you later tonight." She looked sad, so sad. Resigned. But somewhat relieved.

"No. I'm not leaving. We haven't finished our dance." He led her away from the table. Pulled her gently into his arms and began to sway with her. "See?"

She smiled. "There's no music, John. You–"

"You're all the music I need, baby." He kissed her. Kiss after kiss. He began to guide her towards the bed. Moira knew what he was doing but didn't care. Enchanted by the sweet kisses, the gentle touches. His love washing over her. Shielding her. She bumped into the bed, sat. He sat very close, his thigh pressing hers.

"Oh John...you...I..." she sighed longingly. She ran her fingers in his hair, kissing him. Circling his ear. Her mouth nibbling down his throat. Slowly she unbuttoned his shirt. Opening it to run her fingers lightly along his chest, his waist. Her mouth followed. She pushed him onto his back. Slid up to kiss his mouth repeatedly. To whimper, nibble his lower lip. She kissed down to his waist. Paused. Caressed his thigh, his crotch. "Oh." Her fingers had encountered his very erect cock.

He smiled at her soft surprise. "Oh indeed, baby."

"John, do you want, um, do you want me to go down on you?" Even as she asked she was undoing his belt, his pants. Tugging the zipper down. She smiled at his black silk boxers.

"No."

She met his gaze, surprised. "No?"

He licked his lips. Gaze serious. Sensual. "No. I want you."


	6. Chapter 6

Selection Factor6

Moira was staring, flustered. John's gaze intent. Leaving no doubt as to exactly what he wanted. How he wanted her. "Um...um...John, um, look...um, John..."

He sat suddenly. Catching her before she could flee. Kissing her passionately. He pulled the band from her hair, setting the long brown tresses free. Ran his fingers through them as he kissed her. Tongue sliding now, possessing to make her murmur. Shift in arousal, need. He tugged at the sweater, pulling it off her. She let him, freeing her arms. She bit her lower lip as he paused, staring at her. "Fuck."

"I...I know...I....John..." she whispered, on the brink of tears.

"Fuck," he repeated. "Do you have any idea how fucking beautiful you are, baby? My God..." He lifted her face to his. Kissed her. "Do you have any idea how much I want you right now? As long as it is safe for you and John junior."

"I...you...you really want to have, to have sex, with, with me?"

He smiled at her earnestness. "Yes, baby. Only you. I love you, Moira. You can trust me." He kissed her. "Completely." He ran his mouth up her throat. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, John, it's not that...it's just...it's..."

"No tears." He kissed her. Hands sliding her shirt up, up. "Then give yourself to me, Moy. Give me all of it. I'll take away all of your worries." He lifted the shirt. She raised her arms and he pulled it off her. Tossed it aside. She blushed as his gaze wandered. Lingered. Stared. A passionate intensity that captivated her. She had on a lacy pale green bra, one that he had seen many times. But now it could barely contain her. She was nearly popping out of it. The swells of her breasts barely covered by the fabric. The hard, pink nipples visible as they pressed the lace. "Oh fuck," he muttered, cock becoming even harder. Body tensing with lust. His gaze lowered to the baby bump. A warmth filled his eyes, a joy, a pure delight of emotion. He met her gaze. "Moira."

"John? Don't....don't..."

He kissed her. "So fucking beautiful I ache for you, baby. I ache for you," he wooed. Kissing down her throat, sliding the bra straps down. Fingers sliding behind her to unhook the bra.

She gasped, shifted. Aroused and uneasy. Embarrassed and enthralled. He pulled the bra off her. Gazed and touched gently. "You–"

"Moira, my Moira...fuck...they are even more beautiful...wow...oh Moy..."

"Shut up, John! You would have to oh God!" she moaned as he kissed her. Hands cupping, clasping gently. Caressing. Fingers spreading over the swells, the curves. He gently moved her onto her back. Kissing down her throat. Down to her breasts. Moira forgot about her embarrassment, arching up to his mouth. Moaning as he kissed, licked. So gently took each nipple to suck and suck until she squirmed. His hands slid down to undo her pants. He pulled, pulled. She lifted and he removed them. Yanked off her shoes. Kissing her breasts again all over. Fingers now caressing between her legs. "Oh John! John, John...oh John!" she murmured. Pleasure beginning, lazy spirals of anticipation.

He kissed down, down. Paused. "Hey, John junior." Slid down, kissing up her thigh. Mouthed against her panties. Tasting. Teasing. Feeling her wetness, the snug heat ready for him. "Fuck," he muttered, as his cock jerked in reaction, a preliminary spasm even before he had entered her. He slid up, still next to her. "Moira," he breathed into her ear, "do you want me to go down on you, baby?"

"I...no. No, John...no...I want..." Moira was barely coherent. Squirming as his fingers slid into the panties now. To caress. To tease. To probe. She grabbed his arm, moaning. "John!"

"Ssh..." He grinned. Feeling her ready to take him, to come wildly. So was he. His erection a pulsing hunger against her thigh. He yanked down her panties, yanked them off of her. He tore off his shirt, stood to kick off his shoes, to yank off his pants and his shorts. So eager now he almost came in his own hands. He groaned. Moved back to her, gazing at her in wonder, in lust. In love. "Fuck...oh fuck, Moy...I want every inch of you but I can't wait too long or I will come all over the new bed," he complained.

"John!" She stared up at him. His passionate scrutiny. His love. The lust gleaming in his brilliant green eyes. In his very erect cock pointing at her.

He moved to her. Kissed her. "How's this? Can I—"

"Get on top of me, sweetie, please! It will be fine."

"Are you sure? I...." He groaned as she suddenly took hold of him. Squeezed.

"Do I need to put it in myself, colonel?" she teased.

He grinned. "Yeah, do it, baby. Put me in there. Are you sure you will be oh fuck! Fuck!"

"Ssh!" she chided to his exclamation as she squeezed, stroked. A bit uncertain herself feeling him so engorged, so eager. Felt a spasm run along the hard length of him. She freed him. "John, John..."

He entered slowly, carefully. Moaned to find her tight but so slick he could thrust in and out easily. Eliciting whimpers and sighs of surrender as he did so, thrusting a gentle rhythm. Careful to shift his weight but she pulled him onto her. Kissing him fiercely. He lifted up a little, uncertain. "Easy, baby, we need to–"

"No! Harder! Faster! Bring me, John, bring us!" she ordered. So hungry for him, for all of him. For the wild passion to consume them both. She ran her nails up his bare back. Kissed his throat. Bit his ear. Bit harder. He thrust harder in response. Increased momentum. "Oh John! Oh John!" she cried, his name exploding in a breathless litany as she came. Arching as the orgasm was sharp, sweet.

"Fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, baby!" he enthused, moving faster, harder. Still careful as she pulsed on him, clenched and controlled him. He thrust deeper, deeper, but not too roughly. Groaned as he came in a rushing shudder. Release. He slowed, slowed, stilled. Relaxed a moment but she pulled him onto her. "Moira?"

"John! Oh John! Love me, love me...please...you..." She kissed him.

He rolled onto his side, sliding out of her. Turned her to him. She snuggled. "Okay, baby? That was sweet. Fucking sweet."

"Yes, sweetie. Wonderful...oh."

"Moy?" He scooted back, felt her tears. "Are you–"

"I'm fine. It's just...you...you love me."

He kissed her. "Yes, sweetheart."

"No. I mean you, you love me. You...John..." She touched his face, his lips. "You still want me. Still want me like this...you...oh John...you bring me so exquisitely!"

"Moira, I want you. When you are big as a house I will want you," he assured.

"John!" She hit his arm.

He smiled. Kissed her. Kept kissing her, tasting her tears. Her love. Her need. "Moira..." He ran his hand down her arm, her hip. Eyes on her breasts again. "Wow...I mean, wow! I...give me...ten? Okay...I..."

She kissed him. "You have five, colonel. Get it up."

He laughed. Rolled onto his back. "Ah, baby, that is not enough time. Not even for me."

"Do you need help with your ordnance, colonel?" She kissed him. "Ew! I don't think so."

He laughed at her expression. "Yeah, baby. Suck it, Moy. Suck my–"

"No! God, no!" She rolled away from him. He laughed loudly. "John! It's not funny!"

He rolled to her. Touched her rear. "Oh fuck, fuck...Moy! My God...Moira!" He gently squeezed the rounder cheeks. Kissed down her back. "Moira...oh fuck. Wall. Wall, baby...I'll make sure you don't get hurt."

"I thought you couldn't get it up," she teased. Squirming under his hands.

"That pert little ass...it's my weak spot, baby."

She sighed fondly. Scooted up onto her knees. Caught the headboard. "We shouldn't break this one, John."

"Not yet, Moira." He slid behind her. Hands running along her body. "Fuck you are so beautiful, baby! Just say the safe word if you need to." He lowered to kiss up her thighs, spreading them wide.

She gasped at the unexpected action. Felt a renewed flood of desire. "Oh John, John..." She moaned, shifting as he scooted under her. Began to nibble up her thigh. Between her legs, teasing, searching. His hands slid up to squeeze her rear. She bucked, moaned. Writhing and tightening. "Oh John! John!" she sobbed as pleasure throbbed, throbbed. As he took, took, relentless. Ruthless. Sucking so hard she whimpered helplessly. He freed her. Slid behind her and entered her. Groaned, rock hard, thrusting all the way. Pulling her gently back a bit. A bit more, finding the best position.

"Fuck! Oh fuck, Moira...harder! Harder, baby...oh fuck!" He began to thrust in earnest now, body so eager. But he was careful. Making her tremble with pleasure. Excitement. He kissed her shoulder, began to bounce her on the bed. Up to the wall. The headboard. Grunting as each thrust brought him closer, closer. But he gently pulled her back. Hands sliding up to grasp her breasts, to knead and tease until she moaned, arching, squirming. He thrust deeper, harder. Faster as the bed rocked noisily. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck here we go!" he growled. Hands freeing her. One splayed on the baby bump protectively. The other sliding straight down to her cleft to enter.

"John? John, oh John...a double, a double, oh John, John, John!" Her voice rose in a crescendo of passion, crying out as the climax slammed, followed by another. As he sped up, filling every inch of her, taking every inch and dissolving it into pleasure.

He shuddered, ejaculating as the orgasm rocked him. "Fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!" he growled, the rush exhilarating. Passionate. He thrust a few more times, grunting as she moaned. He rested on her a moment, kissing her shoulder. Her throat. "Fuck that turns me on...those sounds you make, that pert little ass...so fucking sweet...I get so fucking hard I think I'll die."

"John! John...you..." She moaned as he slid out of her at last.

"Let's get under." He got off the bed, pulled back the sheets as she shakily stood. Dazed. Pleasured. He got into the bed, reclined. "Oh fuck!" he moaned. "This bed! It's as good as that hotel bed, Moira! Ah baby!"

She got in next to him, smirking at his ecstatic reaction to the mattress. She snuggled against him. "You'll make my bed jealous, John."

He smiled, holding her close. Kissed her. "Can't a man love two beds, baby? Oh Moira...give me ten, no eleven...maybe twelve..."

"Hilarious, John."

"You sure you're okay? And John junior?"

"No, John, I'm not okay!" She slid over him, kissed him. "I'm so fucking pleasured and flying on sex right now I won't be able to sleep! Thanks a lot, colonel!"

He smiled. "Any time, baby. And I do mean any time. Day or night."

She laughed. "I bet." She rested on him. Relaxing. Secure. Dazzled. "I'm so glad you are here, John. My John."

"My Moira." He kissed her brow. "Is there some problem, Moy? I'm sure men are ogling you but if it's more than that–"

"No. Nothing like that." She lifted her head to see his face. "Would that, would that make you jealous? If other men um, ogled me?"

"Should it, Moira?"

"No."

"Have they?"

"Um...some," she admitted. Saw his gaze narrow. His arm tighten around her. "It's more me than them," she hastily explained. "I mean I...the way I feel about how I...this...the...um..."

He kissed her. "About how beautiful and even more voluptuous you are? About how those men would probably kill to be where I am right now. Where I was five minutes ago?"

"John," she scolded fondly. "Oh John..."

He kissed her again. "Go to sleep, Moira. I'm here now. If there's a problem I need to know. Immediately. All right?"

"Okay, John." She settled on him.

He kissed her brow. "This feels so good I may never leave. Can we just live in this bed, Moy?"

She smiled. "For as long as we can, sweetie. It's much more comfortable with you in it."

"Good to know. It's certainly stickier."

"John!" They laughed.

"What? It's true, baby. Go to sleep. I hope you bought extra sheets."


	7. Chapter 7

Selection Factor7

John shifted in his chair again. Set his hand on his thigh. Sliding it under the cover of the table to press down on his persistent arousal. He couldn't concentrate on the mission rotations, the lists of teams, planets, missions. He was still reviewing the previous evening. The sweet and slow seductions to make Moira comfortable. To ease her into security, confidence. To ease her out of her clothing piece by piece. To enjoy exuberant although careful sex. The passionate intimacy.

He recalled this morning. Waking up entangled with her. Warm, naked bodies under the blankets of the new bed. Kissing her awake, teasing, stroking. Trying to see as sunlight flooded the room. Her insistence that he leave before she got out of the bed. Before he saw her in the full light. Still not entirely convinced how beautiful and desirable she was. He tried to ignore the memory but it was taunting him. When he had peeked at her in the shower. A glimpse of her voluptuous body drenched in water. Her long hair curling wetly down her back, down to her fuller breasts. Water and soap sliding on her curves, on her nipples. On the dark curling hair between her legs. Sliding along her fuller rear.

Until she had caught him. Yelled at him and told him the shower was now a no fly zone. He smirked at the memory. Her flustered face. Grasping the shower curtain across her. John stifled a groan, the vivid imagery causing him to tense, to tighten. To swell. He leaned forward, placed both hands on the table, on the keyboard in front of him. Could imagine Moira's hilarity over his predicament.

"John? You don't agree with the replacements?" Elizabeth asked, eying him.

He glanced at her. Had not realized his groan was audible. He licked his lips. "No. I mean, they're fine. Fine." He swallowed, voice terse. "I think Peterson would do very well on Lorne's team. So would Anderson. Which means we need to put another guy in Anderson's place on Reynold's team."

Elizabeth smiled. "It's a bit like chess, isn't it? John?"

John's mind had snapped back to the shower. Wanting nothing more than to lick the water off his wife's skin. To taste her again. She had even tasted different, still Moira, but different somehow, and he wanted to experience all that lushness and ripeness again. "Huh? Sorry, I was...yeah. Yes." He shifted on the chair, forcing all lustful longings aside.

Elizabeth eyed him a moment, curious at his odd discomfiture. He seemed tense. Agitated. "Why don't you put another scientist on Lorne's team? I was thinking of Julie Armstrong."

"Julie...oh, you mean that geologist?" he asked, recalling the name. One of Moira's friends, but his mind had almost stated conspirators. He wondered what they were up to, all the secrecy and the jokes about mutiny. "Isn't she on some sort of project?" he tested.

"No. Not that I'm aware of, no. Only a general geological survey of the mainland. I think she would benefit greatly from more off-world experience. Until or unless Moira is needed."

"Hmm...let me check with Lorne first. He may not be too keen to enlist another scientist."

Elizabeth smiled. "As long as you don't requisition her like you did Moira I'm sure he'll be fine."

John smiled. "One scientist is more than enough for me." He eyed the roster again. "I see you haven't approved any of Rodney's suggestions again. Those planets that might have alien tech."

"Not yet. It's not a priority, John. What is a priority is gaining allies and information about the Wraith, which we can only get from inhabited planets. Surely you can see that?"

"Yes..." he said slowly. Something was nagging at the back of his mind but he couldn't quite catch it. Distracted as he was by the more vivid sexual memories. Wants. "But Rodney thinks this alien tech could be a–"

"He can't even put it all together yet, much less tell us what it does. Until he can do either we have more important concerns, don't we?"

"Yes... I guess," John acquiesced.

Moira sighed, shifted. Stood stiffly. Stretched but closed the sweater around her. Despite being hot she used the bulky material to shield her. Despite John's passionate assurances she still felt unattractive, awkward. Despite his loving attentions which she kept thinking about, every kiss, every touch, every sweet sensation as he inundated her with sensual pleasure she was still uncertain. "Sorry. I can't concentrate right now. And sorry about last night." Her voice lowered as she spoke softly, glancing around the botany lab. "I...um..that is to say...John...I wanted to stay with John. Stay in bed with John, I mean. Stay to sleep with John in bed, I mean. I wanted to sleep with John in bed."

"Of course you did, Moira," Katie smiled, amused at her friend's awkward words. "Besides, he would surely notice you sneaking out of the room at two am. Who knows what he would think? I guess we need a more congenial meeting time."

"Yes," Moira agreed, smiling. "Now that I can sleep through the night."

"Before, or afterwards?" Julie asked, smirking with suggestions.

"Julie!" Katie scolded, but Moira laughed.

"Afterwards...both times," Moira boasted. Colored as her friends laughed. She sighed fondly. "John...he...he loves me. I mean he wants me, even like this." She seemed to marvel over it a moment. His attraction to her. His hunger for her. Desire and sheer lust. His gaze all but devouring her when he had intruded during her shower.

"What did I tell you?" Julie remarked with a shake of her head. "You can lead him around right now like a dog on a leash."

Moira laughed. "Maybe, maybe not. But I will tell him. About this. He already knows something is up, and it's only a matter of time before he asks me. And I won't lie to him."

"Is that wise? I mean we weren't going to tell anyone until we completed all of the research," Katie warned, frowning. "I haven't told Rodney a thing, not that he's noticed anything."

"Well, John has. Noticed. He's very observant about most things. Besides, we will need him onboard once we present this to Weir. If we do at all."

"You really think we can get round her?" Julie asked, clearly not convinced.

Moira nodded. "Yes. With John we can." She considered. "Or not. But if we have John's backing then there will be a mission. With or without Weir's consensus." She looked round as the lab was filling with scientists. "Maybe around three in the afternoon? Our new time?"

"Sounds good to me," Katie agreed.

"Okay," Julie smiled. "As long as that doesn't interfere with your two o'clock." They laughed.

"Oh shit, that's right!" Moira recalled, smirking. "In that case, better make it four," she slyly said. Winked. The women burst into laughter.

John found himself in the awkward position of being unable to leave. Or more accurately trying to figure out how to leave without giving Elizabeth an eyeful of his erection. Despite shutting down all thoughts, all memories, all desires his body was avidly demanding consummation with Moira. With every curvaceous part of her. He eyed the keyboard.

"Was there something else, John?" Elizabeth asked, wondering why he was hesitating. Normally when their meetings were finished he was the first to stand, the first out the door. Her gaze lingered on his handsome face, expression appearing stern.

"No." John fiddled with the keys. "I'll just go over the roster in case any other names jump out at me. It's always good to have a fallback position." It took all of his self-control not to smirk, not to recall taking Moira from behind. The sexy curves of her back leading down to her fuller, rounder rear. He licked his lips again, pants tight, uncomfortable. He wondered if he should page her to him. Searched his mind for some excuse to summon her. He glanced up but Elizabeth was still sitting there. "Was there something else?" he asked, a little harshly. Remembered Moira's words. A thing for him. He felt uncomfortable suddenly.

"No." Elizabeth regarded her own screen. "I was just trying to think if there was anything else we needed to discuss since you haven't bolted yet."

"There's not, trust me." He resumed his attention on the screen. Trying to figure out a graceful way to leave without displaying his now considerably noticeable package. How to contact Moira, what pretext to use.

"John?" He looked up, hearing her voice, as if his thoughts has summoned her. Moira stared, poised in the doorway of the conference room, a bundle of folders in her arms. Studying the obvious relief on his face, the warmth of his gaze washing over her, startling her. She glanced at Elizabeth, back to John. "Am I interrupting?"

"Yes, we were–" Elizabeth began, having decided upon a topic.

"No, not at all, Moira, please," he gestured to the chair next to him. His gaze insistent.

Moira entered the room. Took the chair he pushed out for her. Sat. Eyed Elizabeth. "Sorry to interrupt but I needed to speak to John. Actually I need his help, if he's done here?"

"Well, I was thinking of going over next month's supply list and–"

"I'm sure that can wait, can't it?" Moira asked, moving to her feet. She glanced at John. "It concerns Wraith intel, colonel. But I need to access it first to upload the data and I need your help because of the new security codes." She saw his quick glance down, his discomfort. She smirked. "Could you carry these for me, John? Thank you." She handed him the folders, turned to Elizabeth, effectively blocking the view of her husband as he stood. She adjusted her sweater, revealing the baby bump before closing the fabric over her once more. "I'm afraid I need him now." She glanced at him over her shoulder, slyly stated, "ordnance check. Looks like you need it, flyboy. Let's go, John!" She moved to the doorway.

John was staring at her, impressed. Astonished at her perspicacity, gauging his problem immediately without a word. Handing him a suitable shield so he could stand without too much embarrassment. He hastened after her, holding the folders splayed in front of his crotch. "Sorry, Elizabeth. I never argue with the pregnant woman. Moira, hold up!" He caught up to her on the stairs. "Baby, you are amazing! You...hey, ordnance check? Seriously?"

She smiled. "Depends, colonel, on what you're packing down there. Unless you were are pretending to get out of–"

"Ah, no. I...um...sorry, baby. I can't think of anything else. After last night, then this morning. That glimpse of you in the shower has given me a raging hard-on, baby."

"Ssh, John!" She smirked, glancing at his crotch hidden by the folders. "Really, colonel, can't you defuse that artillery yourself? It doesn't look that...oh my!" she softly exclaimed as he shifted the folders to show her. To show her the bulging tent in his pants.

He shoved the folders back into place, scowling. "Fuck, no, baby. I'm not kidding! The safety's off and I swear if you hadn't have showed up when you did...shit! I didn't know how to get out of there, Moira. I mean, how to not show, um..."

"It's all right, sweetie. You are very lucky I intruded when I did, John." Moira paused as people passed them. She resumed, trying not to laugh, "if Weir had seen you at nearly full deployment preparedness she might have fainted."

John scowled. "It's not funny, Moira!" But she laughed.

"Yes, it is, John. I'm serious, though. Swinging that thing around is a hazard, colonel. You should be more careful with your arsenal and when you decide to–"

"Moira!" he snapped, irritated. "It is not funny! How can you find it funny after what you said? About Elizabeth. The thing."

"Oh. Don't you worry, sweetie, that's nothing. I really need your codes in the Wraith lab." She led him there.

"Wait! Nothing? That was nothing?" He caught her arm, stopping her in the hallway. Clumsily adjusting the folders in one hand as he faced her, stepped so close she was backed up into the wall now. The shadows enfolding them. "Another woman has a thing for me and it's nothing?"

"Yes, John. I trust you. Shouldn't I?" she asked.

"Yes! Of course you can trust me, Moira! I would never cheat on you, never! But you–"

"John, it's simple, really. Come on." She began to walk down the hallway. "It's not love. I'm not saying she's in love with you or anything serious like that. It's just a thing. It's just sex, John. Now, if you would input your codes I can access the...John? John?"

Moira found herself alone in the Wraith lab. Puzzled she stepped out of it. "John?"


	8. Chapter 8

Selection Factor8

John was standing in the hallway, lust momentarily halted by his wife's words. Her nonchalant tone. Pleased at her trust in him, her love. But puzzled over her seeming acceptance. Then her clarification which only bewildered him. He adjusted the folders in his hands as she stepped out of the Wraith lab to find him.

"John?" Moira stood, waiting. "What is it?"

"Sex?"

"Um...not out here. Do you still need to deploy, sweetie?" She smiled, moved to him. Took the folders, brushing her fingers along his still erect cock. "Hmm...feels like you do, colonel."

"Hilarious, Moira. Move that pert little ass now!"

She laughed, entered the lab again. Set the files on the table. "I just need your codes here to ow!"

John had followed on her heels. Had swatted her rear. Pressed himself against her, practically shoving her into the table. "Feel that, baby. All for you. You. So what the fuck was that about? The thing is sex? What?"

She squirmed, his hardness poking her, prodding. "John!" She managed to turn to face him, but that only made it worse as he stepped closer, closer. Erection jutting, pushing at her crotch. "Geez, colonel! Stand down!"

He grinned. "Can't, baby. Full fucking throttle, Moira. Every inch of you." He opened the sweater but she swatted his hands off her.

"John, you–"

He kissed her. A deep, lurid kiss. Tongue swirling on hers as he grabbed her rear and all but thrust her onto him. Clothes barely a barrier now as he shoved, shoved into her, along her. Grunting in her mouth. He freed her, stepped back to see her flustered arousal. Smiled. "Here." He grabbed her hand, pulled her to the inner lab. Pressed his palm to the screen. It went from red to green. Chimed. He input his code, pulled her into the lab and shut the door. "Now," he began, turning to her, "you have two options, baby. Only two."

She smiled, sighed, resigning herself. Anticipating. She put her hands on her hips. "Really, colonel? And what would those options be, exactly?"

He licked his lips. Smiled wickedly. Brilliant green eyes sparkling with love, mischief. Lust. "One." He held up his forefinger. "You take off your clothes. Get on your knees and suck me off until either this goes down or you do." At her frown he grinned. "Two." He held up his second finger next to the first. "You take off your clothes. Sprawl on that table like a buffet and I will take you so fucking hard we will dislodge those monitors. So?"

"Hilarious, John. I am not getting naked here, colonel! Have you forgotten?" She pointed up to the corner.

He looked over his shoulder. Saw the security camera. The little red light blinking. Recording. "Shit," he mourned. Turned back to her and smiled, raised a brow. "Hey, baby, we could make the hottest little piece of film to–"

"Hell no, sweetie!" He laughed at her outraged tone. Which turned to a groan as she took his fingers into her mouth and sucked. Freed them slowly. "Hmm, colonel...whatever are you going to do? You have two options. Only two." She ran her hand along his crotch. Grasping his cock and stroking. "One. You deploy this long, stiff armament in your pants. Two. I remained clothed. Move to my knees and suck this long, hard, burgeoning ordnance until you scream my name or I bite it off. So?"

He stared at her. "Fuck. You are trying to kill me, baby, I swear!" He pulled her into a lengthy kiss, trapping her hand between them, fingers still entwined around his cock. She murmured, squeezing until he moaned, shifted. Shuddered slightly and drew back with a scowl. "Fuck!"

She smiled, freed him. Stepped back. "Camera, John. First things first."

"Huh? Oh..right. Does that camera have a three sixty view?"

"Yes, you insisted. John, I have work to do. We can deploy your enormous P90 later, can't we?"

"No. I'm not kidding around here, baby." He looked around. Grabbed a lab coat hanging on the wall. Spun round and tossed it. It flew up, over the camera, covering the lens. "That's mine. Now yours, baby." He pointed to the window in the door.

"Nice throw," she commented. Hesitated. Unbuttoned the sweater. Walked past him and removed it. Hung it up over the window, it's blue bulky folds blocking the view. She heard John's moan of appreciation. Knew where his gaze was fixated. Frowned. She turned to him. "John, really, do you want to have sex right here right now? I mean..." Her words faltered as his gaze fastened on her breasts. The swells pushing upwards as the once-modest V-neck violet shirt was now very sexy, very revealing.

"Fuck." His gaze wandered to the baby bump. He smiled. Down to her crotch. The dark brown pants hugging her hips. Had been hugging her rear. He met her gaze. "Moira...my God...you..no wonder I have a constant hard-on."

"John! Shut up!" She briskly moved to him. Undid his belt, his pants. Unzipped. Opened the fabric of his pants and shorts. He sprang out to meet her, eager, hungry. She moved to her knees and caressed him. Nails scratching up and down his skin as she ran hot kisses along his hip.

John groaned. His amusement at her brisk, efficient manner giving way to pure pleasure. Need. Her fingers torture to him. Her mouth torment. He jerked in her hands. Grabbed her arms and hauled her to her feet. "No," he said gruffly.

"John? I'll suck you off, sweetie, don't you worry, then I need your codes to–"

He kissed her. Grabbed her rear to squeeze, to make her squeal. He lifted her onto a table. Fingers flying to undo her pants. Yanking them down, off as she squirmed, grabbing onto him. He yanked down her panties, pushing her onto her back to rip them off her. The violet fabric moist in his fingers, pliable. She whimpered, trying to move but he shoved her thighs apart and entered with an abrupt thrust.

Moira gasped, cried out as he plied her. Began to rock her eagerly, quickly. The table shaking under them. His weight all but off her as he stood, angled to penetrate her as she sprawled on the table. Papers and files flew. The computer monitor was trembling as the passion grew, grew. "John! Oh John, John, John!" she cried, trying to lower her voice as the pleasure was building, building hotly.

John was grunting, groaning. Finding sweet relief but needing more and more. He kissed her, leaning close. Thrusting all the while as he yanked up her shirt, the violet bra and kissed her breasts. Sucking, nibbling, taking every inch of her as she tightened on him, giving him rushes of pleasure, each more intense than the last. "Fuck, oh fuck, baby! Fucking sweet, so fucking lush I can't get enough," he growled, voice low and primal.

Moira felt a shiver at the sound. The lower register of his voice, the husky possessiveness. The sounds he was making as he took her repeatedly. She squirmed, holding onto him as he was moving her inexorably up the table inch by inch, thrust by thrust. The monitor was shaking now, beginning to beep as if in alarm. The table squeaking with each motion, legs scratching the floor. "John! Oh John, John, John!" she cried, arching, voice rising to the heights of passion as she came sharply. The climax making her flood, melt under him.

"Ssh, ssh, baby oh fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he exclaimed, not heeding his own warning as he came at last, the excruciating tightness dissolving into rolling pleasure. But he was still moving, slowing from his frenzied momentum. Still in her, still taking her. Savoring the feel, the taste, the sex. He kissed her breasts, sloppily moved to her mouth.

Moira blinked back tears as the pleasure vibrated. As he still was so big, filling every inch of her. Slowing now, sliding over every sensitive spot to make her squirm, whimper. Clutch as his mouth wandered to her throat. He exhaled, straining, thrusting. Then collapsing, half on her as he hid his face in her messy hair. She stroked his arm, his back. Kissed his cheek, his ear to circle, to bite gently. He moaned in response, thrust weakly. All but spent now. Lust expended.

"John. My God, John...colonel...you, um, you weren't kidding."

"Never about sex, baby. Are you okay?" he asked, voice raw.

"Yes, sweetie. And yes, so is John junior," she assured before he could ask. "Wow, John...you, um, you were that turned on by just that, um, glimpse in the shower?"

"Yeah."

She shifted a little, but he seemed unwilling or unable to move yet. "Oh. Wow," she repeated. "Um, John...shouldn't you be getting up now? I mean, unless you like having your bare ass hanging out towards the door?"

He laughed. "Yeah, I like it fine, baby, but not as much as taking yours." He lifted his head, kissed her. Slid out and straightened, pulling her gently to a seated position. He kept kissing her, cupping her breasts now, caressing as his mouth wooed and beguiled hers.

A knock sounded on the door. Moira gasped, nearly bit John's tongue. He drew back, hands going still on her breasts. He looked over his shoulder. "Are you there, Moira?" Carson's voice sounded on the other side of the door. "Something's blocking the window and the camera isn't working right. Moira, are you–"

"Fine!" she called. "Don't open the door!" She scrambled, shoving John who was trying not to laugh at her consternation. "Damn it, John, it's not funny!" She jumped off the table, yanking down her bra and shirt. Scrambling into panties and pants. "Just a sec, Carson! John was inputting his codes and the camera went all wonky but he's fixing it now!"

"Inputting my codes? Oh yeah, baby, repeatedly," John teased, watching her.

"John! Put that thing away, would you! Damn it!" she hissed, shoving him again.

He laughed, pulled up his pants and shorts which had fallen to his ankles. "Just a sec, Carson!"

"John's with you, then? Shall I come back in ten minutes?"

"Carson!" Moira exclaimed, blushing but John laughed.

"Yeah, make it fifteen, Carson, no, twenty!"

"Shut up, John!" She shoved past him. "Just a sec! John's almost got it working!"

"I had it working, baby, full fucking throttle and I ow!" he complained as she hit his arm.

"Camera!"

He sighed, turned and moved to it. Leapt up and snatched the lab coat off the camera. Threw it onto a table. "Sweater, darn it. I like you this way, baby, so–"

"Barn door!" she hissed, glaring.

"Huh? Oh." He snorted, shoving himself into his clothes. Distracted he watched her yank the sweater off the window, her shirt lifting until she pulled the bulky garment onto her. He yanked up his zipper. "Shit, Moy, you don't need that son of a bitch!"

She whirled at his sudden exclamation. "John?"

"Fuck! Oh fuck, fuck, son of a bitch!" he moaned, hunching over, hands at his crotch.

"John? Are you...all right?" she asked, a laugh slipping between her words.

"It's not funny, Moy! Fuck!" He unzipped, felt around. "I was watching you and damned if that pert little ass didn't wake up my–"

"John! Don't tell me you can deploy that fast again! Can you? John, put it away for God's sake!" she scolded, smirking.

"Shit! That left a mark. Look." He was pulling himself out for her to see.

"John, put it away unless you want the world to see!"

"What? Oh shit!" He tucked himself into his clothes after glancing at the camera. Turning quickly to block the view of himself. He snorted. "Fuck...Moira...I better check that particular security tape and erase it."

"You think?" she snapped, but shook her head.

"Is everything all right in there, love?" Carson asked, peering in the window. "Has John gone and done himself an injury?" The doctor was trying not to laugh.

Moira glanced at John, saw he was decent at last. She unlocked, opened the door. "Yes, Carson, he has. If you would care to look–"

"I'm fine!" He stepped behind her, swatted her rear. "It's not funny, Moira! Carson."

"John." Carson entered the lab, shook his head. Saw the table askew. The monitor perched at an odd angle. Files on the floor. Folders disrupted. "John, would it kill you to be more, shall we say, conventional? Like getting a room? A bedroom, for instance?"

"A bedroom..." John considered, as Moira stepped out of the lab, embarrassed. He followed. "Well, I suppose, but Moira...Moira does enjoy her lab work, don't you, Moira?"

"Shut up, John!" She turned. "Sorry, Carson...I...um..that is to say he...he..."

"Yeah, it's my fault, Carson, I just had to input my code. Repeatedly. Didn't I, Moira? Repeatedly until all that sweet data was scrolling wildly, huh?"

Moira scowled. "Shut up! You and your damn ordnance!"

"Hey! I suffered a serious injury so you better make nice and take care of–"

"Oh please! If you can't zip up your own pants, colonel, then I can't–"

"Are you offering to zip my pants, doctor, or unzip them?"

"Get a room, the pair of you!" Carson scolded, laughed.

"Sorry, Carson! I have work to do!" Moira headed for the door, grabbing her folders on the way.

"That you do, Moira. You owe me after your heartless disparagement of my injury," John called, winked at Carson and followed her out of the lab. "Hey, baby, need me to input more cock, er, codes? Hey, baby, do you want me to collate that pert little ass until you–"

"John Sheppard!" She whirled as he reached her. Glared but he was smiling. Playful, eyes full of love, of happiness. She smirked. "Stand down, colonel, all right? I owe you nothing!" They began to stroll down the hallway. "You should be thanking me, colonel. On your knees for helping you with your dire predicament. Well?"

"You're right, baby, but you thoroughly enjoyed helping me, so I think we're even on that score."

She giggled. "True, sweetie. Now go! Go to work, John!"


	9. Chapter 9

Selection Factor9

Moira stepped out of the bathroom. Calmer. Cleaner. Relaxed. Echoes of pleasure a pleasant reminder of her time with John. She smiled, but froze. John was sitting on the bed. Waiting.

"Oh oh," she muttered. "Um, John? I...I...I have a new schedule now, colonel. And wild sex with Colonel Sheppard is not on it. At least not again, okay?"

"New schedule?" he asked, watching her. "What is our new schedule, baby?"

"My schedule, not yours," she argued, trying to be stern. But he appeared so happy. So alluring as he sat on their bed. Watching her warmly.

"Because I will make damn sure that wild sex with Moira Sheppard is on mine, don't you worry, baby. That is a priority!"

She laughed. "Hilarious, John." She sat on the bed. Reclined on her side, facing him. "You wear me out, sweetie. I need a quick nap before I go back to work." She glanced at the clock.

"Ah." He scooted close. Ran his fingers through her loose hair. Along her arm. "And then what? Your mutiny?"

"Yes." She eyed him. Touched his thigh. "I...I don't suppose you could–"

"Done." He laid next to her. Held her close, kissing her. "Relax, Moy. I'm tired too. All that exuberant release all at once can tire a guy, you know."

She snuggled into him, closing her eyes. "And now Carson knows we did it in the Wraith lab. Good God, John, what is wrong with us?"

He smirked. "Nothing, baby. Absolutely nothing. Table sex is hot. Really hot. Could have been hotter though. Naked. That would have been better. But I guess nudity is only allowed here? Thought so," he answered his own question. "Don't you worry, baby. I'm almost certain that Carson knows. Knows we have sex, that is. You being pregnant and all."

"John!" she snorted laughter. Relaxing in his arms. "It's not funny."

"No? It's funnier than my zipper injury, Moy, I 'm not kidding. Fuck...you should see the mark. You will see it, later." He kissed her brow, stroking her back. "Go to sleep, baby. John junior must think we live at a carnival. All those wild rides."

She laughed. "John! Stop it!"

"I'm just saying, Moy. Think about it. Up and down, back and forth. Fast and slow. Full throttle. He must think we're carny folk or very avid carnival attendees."

She giggled. "Poor guy," she remarked. "We really should dial it down, shouldn't we?"

He gently laughed. "Yeah, poor guy. But no. Not a second of it, baby. Turbulence training, remember? My son. My delicious, exuberant wife. All mine." He kissed her. "Go to sleep, sweetheart. There's no place I would rather be."

"But?" She lifted to view his handsome face. "John? Well?"

"We need to talk, sweetheart. After our nap." He closed his eyes, drawing her against him. Stroking her back, her hair. "Sex. Mutiny. The usual."

"The...huh? Oh...oh..." She sighed, staring at him. "John?" He was silent, drifting pleasantly. She snuggled into him again, relishing his warmth, his love. "Okay, John."

John woke. Sat suddenly, surprised he had fallen so deeply asleep. Sprawled alone on the new bed, the comfort had seduced him into a restful repose. He looked round. "Moira?" Frowned. Wondered where she had gone. Needed to talk to her. He moved to his feet in one flowing motion. Crossed to his room. Snatched a beer from the fridge, smiling over having it there. Drank and tapped his earpiece. "Moira, copy? Baby? Where are you, baby?"

Moira started, John's voice sounding husky in her ear. She smirked. Tapped the earpiece. "John, copy? Sweetie? Don't tell me...ordnance check again?"

He laughed at her exasperated tone. "No. Zipper injury check, baby, stat! Where are you?"

"Working, John. Why don't you–"

"Where?"

She sighed. Eyed Katie and Julie as they watched her, amused. "I'll meet you in botany, okay? And John...could you, um, bring some potato chips with you? The honey-dipped ones? John?" She frowned as his gentle laughter filled her ear. "It's not funny, colonel! Sheppard..." She paused, corrected, "Sheppards out!" She smiled, knew he would be charmed by that. And pleased. She stood. "Busted."

"I guess. Well, we were almost done here anyway," Katie remarked, glancing round the lab. "At least for today."

"What are you going to tell him?" Julie asked.

"As much as I can. He needs to know. Don't worry."

"But what if he disagrees, or worse pull the plug on all of this?" Julie asked, not convinced. She looked round at the computers, the consoles. "We're making progress and if we stop now because he gets cold feet or has to go through the chain of command and it gets to Weir we–"

"No. John will support this, and he will keep it close. Trust me, Julie. Like I said, we will need him on our side when are ready to report our findings."

"Besides, John would never betray Moira's trust," Katie urged.

"That is true," Moira agreed. "Let's wrap it up for now. Shit, I've got to make it to botany before he does!"

"Yes, you wouldn't want to miss out on those chips," Julie teased. The women laughed.

Moira waited. Heard the distinctive sound of his boots clomping down the hallway, then into the botany lab. She lingered, oddly nervous. Wringing her hands together as she looked at the plants surrounding her. Tensing with anxiety.

John looked round the lab. "Moira? Moira, I've got your chips." He shook the bag. Smiled as she suddenly appeared, but he studied her. "Sweetheart?"

Moira licked her lips. Took the bag. Set the bag aside. Picked it up. Put it down again. "John...John..." She didn't know what to say, where to start. She sighed. "Thank you, John." She took the bag again. Opened it and ate. Wordlessly offered him some. He took some, watching her eat. Her nervous gaze darting round the room. Then fixating on the motions of his mouth as he chewed. Swallowed. Licked his lips.

"What are you doing in botany?" he asked, pondering how to ease her into discussion.

"Eating chips."

He smiled. "Cute. Very."

"And looking at the most gorgeous guy in Atlantis. You?" she asked with a smile. She ate more chips, finally set the bag aside and grabbed a bottle of water to drink.

"Waiting for my beautiful, pregnant wife to spill it. All of it."

She handed him the water bottle. He sipped, sipped. Swallowed and licked his lips. Handed it back to her. She smiled, set it aside. Stepped close and kissed him. "Hmm...John...you..." She touched his chest. Fingers caressing the black fabric of his t-shirt. She felt his dog tags underneath, and suddenly realized he hadn't removed them. "You...you're leaving, aren't you?"

He caressed her cheek, drawing her gaze up to his. "Soon, yes, Moira. A mission will pop up, they always do. Talk to me, Moira. You look tired, sweetheart, and not just from last night. Have you been sleeping all right while I've been gone?"

"No. I mean, I've been having trouble sleeping, so it's the perfect time to work."

"Work? You've been working in the middle of the night instead of sleeping? Wait...you..." His thoughts raced. Brows furrowing. "The mutiny."

She nodded, not surprised at his swift conclusion. "A mutiny of science, John. We..."

"You've been working on all five projects again, haven't you? Damn it, Moira, you need to slow down and take care of yourself! Of John junior! What do I have to do, assign a babysitter to you when I am gone?" he flared, concern turning to anger.

"Don't be silly, John. I'm fine. John junior's fine. You heard Carson, and you saw the scan. Besides, I'll sleep better now, don't you worry, sweetie. John...we..." She took his hand. "It's better that I show you. Please." She led him out of the botany lab. "We've been working on the migration trajectory, along with your deserted planets. They don't go together."

"They don't?" he asked, disappointed.

"No. But they do form a pattern. Another pattern, as you well know. Anyway, I've been working on that and some of the protein work, but I'm hitting a wall there because it's not really my field. Instead I decided to concentrate on my field. Evolutionary biology. But I studied two groups over the centuries and compared population densities and overall rises and falls."

John followed her into a transporter. Watched her choose a destination. "Back up, Moira. What pattern? Those deserted planets? Ah. The aliens, right? Where we've been finding that tech. Did you know that Rodney thinks he had identified them? From our own galaxy, or visa versa, who knows? A more corporeal form than in the Milky Way. Once, anyway, maybe not now. Ah. Those planets weren't touched by the Wraith, were they? It was the Ancients."

Moira smiled, led him down a hallway. "Yes, John . That's my Mensa boy! I first thought those planets were decimated by the Wraith, but they are so far off the grid of the migratory pattern that it couldn't be them. It had to be the Ancients, and those aliens. Which are?"

"Some sort of blue crystalline structured things, well, maybe not blue here, but composed of energy. Not mass, not physical beings like us or the Ancients or the Wraith. At least not anymore. Rodney's still researching, and putting together the stuff we found. It interfaces with our equipment better than with the Ancient's. He can only guess at what the stuff does or is supposed to do. Weird, huh? Hey, where are we going?"

They were climbing the stairs. "A disused portion of the city. That's interesting, John. I will have to compare notes with Rodney later. More evidence that the Ancients were not as benevolent as many believe."

"Wait!" He stopped her, looking round. "This is Section five, grid seven. This hasn't been cleared. It's inert and mostly unexplored. We couldn't activate any of the systems here." He frowned at the shadows. The silence of the deserted corridors. "There's nothing down here, Moira. And you shouldn't be here in an uncleared area. We can't even initiate the systems," he repeated.

Moira smiled at him. Tugged his hand. Led him into a darkened room. She touched a panel and the lights flickered, then filled the space with a soft glow. She touched a console and it flared to life. The monitors humming quietly. Water bubbled soothingly in the greenish blue walls. "I can. Well, I can now thanks to your son, John. Welcome to bio two."


	10. Chapter 10

Selection Factor10

John stared round. Hands on his hips as he surveyed the consoles. The soft lights. The power humming in the room. The Ancient screens active, just waiting as they had risen from the desks at her touch. More conventional computer screens were displayed. Cursors blinking patiently. A few files littered the desks. A few books. A discarded bag of chips that made him briefly smile. He looked back at his wife who was watching him, waiting. The amber lights playing off the blue-green walls to frame her in watery hues. "Bio two?" he finally asked.

"Yes. Known only to a few of us, John. And now to you. The work we've been doing here, well, we needed a private place for it. Off the main grid, so to speak. Look. I will show you."

"And this is the mutiny?" he asked, as she turned and powered up a monitor. Keyed in a password and activated the data to display.

"Yes. Sort of. Look. I've been comparing population densities and diversities. Over the course of centuries, John, because I've been trained to think like that. Evolution, you know. Originally I was concentrating on the Wraith. With the migratory pattern extrapolated backwards to find the breeding ground. But your question kept haunting me, so I ran a comparison study on the Ancients. We had to comb through so much data and extraneous material to form a–"

"Question? What question?" he asked, stepping to stand behind her. He eyed the screen. "How long as this been going on, Moira?"

"Awhile, John. Your question about the Ancients. The ATA gene. Why they wouldn't specifically breed for it, or why they couldn't. I seem to be fixated on all this breeding stuff lately. Don't know why." She glanced at him, touched her baby bump.

He smiled briefly. But became serious. "How long is awhile, Moira?"

"A, a few months. I wasn't going to say anything until we had all of the data. No sense in presenting anything until we had finished. It's all just research right now. Sit." She took a seat. Waited. "John?"

He took the seat next to her. Frowned. "I don't like this, Moira. Why do you need to hide this research anyway? Well?"

"For one, it's nothing pressing, or has to do with any of our current assignments. Two, we needed privacy to comb through the records and data without being interrupted. Three...we...there are things about the Ancients, John, that some people won't accept."

"You mean Elizabeth, don't you?" he realized. "What things?"

Moira turned to the computer. "Look at this. Population densities. I've narrowed it down to selection factors. These two columns here. One Wraith. One Ancient. Of course a lot of this is supposition but I have solid facts for most of it. And these–"

"Selection factors? You mean like natural selection, right? All of that stuff, the survival of the fittest and all that Darwin stuff?"

She smiled. "Yeah, that Darwin stuff. But natural selection is only the tip of the iceberg. Look here. Two populations. One initially created by the other. Both developing along natural and later artificial lines. Adaptation to their environments. The Wraith. Stabilizing selection. It occurs when a population is so well-adapted to its environment that deviant mutants are being eliminated due to selective pressure acting on the phenotype. The actual appearance of the organisms, but also in this case it is regulating the genotype, the genetic constitution of an organism. In this case bred into specific classes, specific functions to serve the hive, like bees. I think there's a strict order of things in Wraith society, otherwise they couldn't function as effectively as they do."

"Okay, got that. Next?"

"The Ancients. Here." She tapped the screen. "Splitting selection. Individual genomes that occur most frequently are being pushed back the strongest so individuals with specific and marginal characteristics or genomes have an advantage and are better able to assert themselves in the population. Leading to an eventual population split which can result in the creation of two separate species."

"You mean the ATA gene, don't you? To promote those with the ATA gene to produce those with the ATA gene. Except not everyone has it, or gets it...so those individuals are left without it. Second-class citizens, so to speak. Ah. Okay."

Moira turned to him. "Over the centuries, John. But do you know what is strange? It's all back to your question. It should be transforming selection. Due to the changing environmental conditions, such as the rise of the Wraith as a formidable enemy, let's say, a one-sided selection pressure should have favored individuals with certain alleles so that their proportion increased in the population. Those with the ATA gene should have increased exponentially, through either natural or more likely artificial means. But they didn't. Why?"

John shrugged. "Beats me. Unless the Ancients desired to control the gene. To keep a monopoly on it. They certainly didn't distribute it widely to human populations out here, now did they? Hell, they didn't even inform them about it. About what it could do. How it could be used to activate the Ancient tech and help defend themselves against the Wraith. The very Wraith that were created by the Ancients. Right?"

"Yes." She shut down the monitor. Took his hands into his. "John...I don't know whether the Wraith were created by accident or design. Maybe both."

"But you have a theory," he surmised, voice lowering as hers did. Although they were alone. Secluded.

"Yes. Carson thinks it was by accident. I'm sure Weir does too. But I think...I think it was deliberate. With unintended consequences that even the Ancients couldn't foresee, or stop. And then I think once the process started it couldn't be stopped. Nature took over. Evolution. The species evolved, John, just as we did from our own humble beginnings as primitive primates up to our first arguably human ancestors _Homo ergaster. _But remember, John, our evolution isn't linear. There are many side branches, diversification which led to dead ends and other ancestors which didn't even lead to us. There were several species of humans, not just us. I think the same thing happened here, to the Ancients, in theory, and certainly to the Wraith. We've encountered a few of those side branches, like on Pleistocene Park, and the aquatic females, remember?"

"Don't remind me," he grimaced at the memory of those pale, pale female forms. Swarming like sirens of old to lead men to their deaths below the waves. "Ah. But like our own evolution those older, earlier forms died out, right? The stronger ones, the ones better adapted to the environment won out. Survival of the fittest." He smiled.

"Yes, John. You're right. It's more complex for the Wraith, being composed of two species. That leaves twice as many variants. Of the humans and of the Iratus bug. And then there's the whole ATA gene that comes into play for one population but not for the second. And that brings in the whole protein research."

John's gaze lowered to her baby bump. "Okay...so far I'm with you, Moira. I think. Our son has a double ATA gene. What does that mean?"

"I don't know. Yet. But it's not harmful," she assured.

"And somehow the Wraith can't access that gene here. But they did in the alternate reality, by means of the harvest." He caressed her fingers in his. "And somehow they managed to override whatever prevents the gene from entering their systems here."

"Yes. Something to do with the proteins. They are all proteins, John! It's so complex, the various biochemical interactions of the enzyme. The Hoffans produced an artificial serum that blocked the Wraith's enzyme and thus prevented them from feeding. But it killed both the Wraith and the host body. Yet, the natural version that Ronon carries does neither, but it does prevent the Wraith from feeding on him. Carson hasn't been able to find that crucial difference yet. I think it was a natural adaptation in the human populations due to the predation of the Wraith on subsequent generations, altering the populations so much a natural defense evolved, but only in a few, not in everyone. Like the ATA gene, in that it only occurs in a few, not everyone."

"Random selection," John mused. "Sounds like. So why couldn't either of those thing be duplicated or created artificially? Successfully, that is. What prevented them?"

"Exactly. That's the question, John. We have to back. To the beginning. The beginnings of Atlantis. The beginnings of the Wraith."

"The beginnings of the Ancients." John glanced at the monitors. Met her gaze. "Who were once human, right? Or a version of human. Until they evolved too."

"Yes...we believe so. We've been having trouble accessing the older records. Parts were destroyed, either intentionally or not when the city was under attack. And sank." She leaned closer, her voice falling softly. "John...we...I think, I think it's the same thing. I mean the beginning of both species...John...it will be in the same place. John...I think...I think that their beginnings may be one and the same."

John stared at her a moment. Processing all the information. Moira sat back but he pulled her to him. Kissed her. A long, savoring kiss even as his mind raced over all of her words, her theories. The things she knew. The things she didn't know. "So."

Moira waited, but that was all he said. He stood, freeing her hands. Eying the lab again, as if assessing it for any potential threats or dangers. "John?"

He met her gaze. "Have you found the planet yet?"

She smiled for a moment. As always he cut to the point. "No. Not yet. But we're close."

"How much have you been able to access here?"

She considered, not sure where he was going. "Most systems. We've kept the power down to a minimum to avoid detection. Mainly the archives. John?"

He moved to a console. Touched it. Frowned. "It barely registers. It needs your magic touch?"

"Yes. I think because of the lower power levels, but I could be wrong. Why?"

"Curious, that's all." He turned as she stood, moved to him. His gaze traveled along her. Back to her face as she watched him, alternately worried and intrigued. "Moira, I don't like the idea of you working down here, with others or not I don't care. It's too isolated, too dependent on your specific gene, well, on John junior's. No, let me finish," he said before she could protest. "I want you to continue this. All the way to wherever it leads. And yes, keep it close, as will I. Just not here."

She stared, not certain whether to be relieved or puzzled. "John? I don't understand." She touched his arm. "John? It's not like I need your permission, colonel."

He met her gaze. "You do in a restricted area, Moira."

She frowned. "John, there is no danger here. I can control the power levels and can–"

"Exactly my point, Moira." He slid his arms around her, drawing her close. "It's too draining. No, don't argue with me. You've been what, sneaking down here in the middle of the night while I've been gone since you can't sleep, haven't you? And constantly activating this at such careful levels must be draining you, not to mention the lack of sleep. Not to mention all this work you are constantly doing instead of looking after yourself and the baby. No, I'm not finished," he continued as she opened her mouth to protest. "I can't have my wife running around Atlantis in the middle of the night, I don't care how many other mutineers she has with her down here, all right? This is a restricted area for a reason. It hasn't been cleared yet, and unless and until it is this area is off-limits to all Atlantis personnel. Including my pregnant wife. Got it?"

"John!" she finally managed as he paused. "You are being overzealously protective again! You–"

"No, I'm not. It's too far from the main grid. Too far from the city. Too far from me. You can access this stuff in your own lab, can't you? Better yet, access it in our room."

"No, John, I can't. That's the point. We have everything here. Off the main grid so it's not conflicting with any other systems. No one is looking at this data, John. It's ours. We are combing through all kinds of things, all disparate elements and we need a hub to do that. But not in the main grid. Not in the city. Not near you. Well, not near Weir. Got it, colonel?"

He smiled, but shook his head. "No, Moira."

"I can't continue this work anywhere else, John. It would take too long to transfer all of the data and upload it to alternate systems. Besides, Rodney is bound to notice the sudden power surges not to mention the data flow. We're down here for a reason, John. You'll just have to accept it. I will look after myself. And now that you are here I won't be sneaking around at night any more. Well, unless I get hungry or something."

"Hilarious, Moira. No. You can't–"

"I can, John. I have to see this through, here. What do you think is going to happen down here? We've got comm access and I can reach you via the earpiece, right?" She ran her fingers up his chest. Her earnest brown gaze boring into his. "John, this is important. You know it is. We can't stop now. Weir's already stopped you from investigating those deserted planets, hasn't she? Yes, word gets around," she answered to his unasked question. "You know she will either stop this or misdirect it. I'm trusting you, John. You need to trust me."

"I do trust you, Moira, of course! I just don't want you down here, all right? Especially not when I am off-world. I don't like it."

She sighed. "Well, tough, colonel. This is more important than what you don't like. I'll be fine. So will John junior. I have to do this for him, don't you see that?"

"Yes, I do see that. But I am concerned about you, sweetheart." He looked round again. Frowning. "I don't like this," he grumpily repeated.

Moira smiled. Turned his face to hers to kiss him. "I know...but you do see the necessity. I know you do."

"Who else?"

"Huh? Oh. Only Katie and Julie. That's all."

"That's it? The three of you? Doesn't seem like enough to–"

"I know, that's why it's taking so long, but since we are lower echelon no one notices us, John. That's the beauty of it. We're under the grid too. Well, I was until I married you. Until I became pregnant. I still am, but not as much. That's why we were working here at such odd hours."

"I see. Power it down, Moira."

She moved free of him, did so. The room was cast into darkness. Quietness. She turned as he stepped to her, taking her arm. "John? Please. You can't halt the progress we've–"

"All right, all right. Let me think about it. Okay? I don't have a problem since I'm here now, and you can meet at a more conventional time. For now." He led her out of the lab. "I guess that just leaves the sex."


	11. Chapter 11

Selection Factor11

Moira briskly entered their room. She crossed to the table, pushing roses aside to gather a collection of folders and books into a pile. She began searching through papers. "I have it here somewhere, John. Just let me find it. It's an older study but I think it's pertinent to this particular line of inquiry. Some things we even left off the data screens. We wrote it down old school style. Like notes in class. But it's still pertinent."

John smirked. Moved to stand behind her. Touched her back and slid his hands down, then under the bulky sweater to squeeze her rear. "Talking of pert little–"

"We weren't!" She whirled, shoved him. "John! I need to–"

"No, we haven't finished talking and you need to stop working so damn much, Moira. All right? Ease up on the science, doctor. You're giving me a headache."

She smiled. "Sorry, colonel. You–"

"Sex."

"What, now?"

He laughed. "I wish, but no. I meant the thing. You know. You said it was just sex, Moira. What exactly did you mean by that?"

She frowned. "It's not important, John. Frankly, I'm surprised you don't see it, being the sex guy and all. Move." She stepped past him. "I might have left it in the–"

"Wait!" He caught her arm, detaining her. "Moira, what? What? What thing? You said she wasn't in love with me, right?"

"She's not." She eyed him, shook her head. "Do the math, sweetie. It's because of the sex."

"What?"

She sighed. "Are you being deliberately obtuse? Move!" She pushed past him but he caught her, drew her against him. Her back to him as his arms enfolded her. "John?"

"Talk to me, damn it," he urged. Kissing her throat. Gently caressing her waist, the baby bump. "My Moira. You are talking in circles so stop that and just tell me what the heck you meant by that. So?"

Moira sighed, yielding. Melting into the solidity of his body behind hers. His arms trapping her in warmth, in protection. In obstinacy as he waited for her reply. She touched his hands, stilling them over the baby bump. "You really want me to spell it out for you, sweetie?" She freed herself, turning to him. Ran her hands up his chest. "Oh John, are you really that clueless? You must know, you must. Hell, you tell me yourself all of the time, well, not all of the time, but you love telling me how much women want you, watch you, even hunger for you."

"And...you're saying that Elizabeth is one of those–" He began slowly. Reluctantly.

"No, John." She smiled at his evident relief. "It's the sex. Our sex."

"You've lost me again. Our sex?"

She sighed. "Think about it, John. Our sex."

He smiled. "I do, baby, all of the damn time. Why do you think I've constantly got a raging–"

"Focus, sweetie!" She tapped his chest. "Our sex. Exuberant. Loud. Obvious. When she saw the table? Work it out, Mensa boy. John, I want to get out of the city."

He blinked at the change in topic, still puzzling over her words, her almost explanation. Trying not to get distracted again by the mention of sex. Their sex. Their exuberance. "Huh? Moira, you still haven't answered my–"

"Please, John." She took his hands into hers. "I am tired of all this work, you're right. I need a break. I want to get out of here, just the two of us, okay? Just to the mainland is all." She brightened. "We can pack a picnic lunch, John! It will be fun. Relaxing. Just the two of us without any interruptions, okay? I just need to–"

"Colonel Sheppard to the control room! Colonel Sheppard to the control room!" a voice broke over the PA, sounding calm but determined.

John freed her, tapped his earpiece. "Sargent, report."

"Incoming from P18F27, sir. Larson and his team. You requested to be informed."

"Oh. Copy." He sighed, tapped the earpiece. "Sorry, sweetheart, duty calls. We'll have to table that picnic for later, okay? Moira?"

"Fine." She turned away from him, but he pulled her close. Kissed her. A long, deep kiss that startled her. Enamored her. "John?" she whispered as he freed her. Brown eyes wide.

He smiled. "We can table that along with some other things, baby. And you still need to answer my question. Back ASAP. Get some rest, sweetheart. No work. None." Before she could protest he was gone, striding confidently out of their room. Boots noisy on the floor.

John entered the control room, glanced at Rodney who was sitting at a console. "Status?"

"Huh? Oh, Larson's back. Look at this, John! I managed to successfully interface this alien thingy with our scanner and it's giving me an entire readout of the planet!" He displayed the triangular device. A tiny screen was scrolling readings which were being relayed to a larger monitor. A depiction of the entire planet was appearing. The land masses near the equator. The city of Atlantis a tiny dot on an enormous ocean.

"Oh. Is that wise? I mean, if you don't really know what it does yet it could be transmitting for all we know," John cautioned.

"Don't you think I already thought of that? And no, it's not capable of that!"

John shook his head, moved to the 'Gate room as a team of marines emerged. "Report, major."

"Sir, nothing to report. That is to say the standard meet and greet. No Wraith activity, but they did spot a hive ship about a month ago." The dark-skinned man shrugged. "As I said, sir, nothing out of the ordinary."

"Fine. Debrief in twenty, major. Dismissed." John stood looking at the inert Stargate. Thinking back over his conversation with Moira. "Major!" he called before the man had cleared the room. "What about the planet?"

"What about it, sir? It was pretty dull, to be honest. Rocky terrain. Some trees. Not much in the way of biologicals. Like other rocks out here. Sir?"

"Nothing. Dismissed. Debrief in twenty." John followed him out of the 'Gate room and returned to the control room. "Rodney, are you still fiddling with that?" he teased, moving to another console. He brought up a star chart of the various planets.

"Yes," Rodney snapped. "This is incredible, John! Look at these readings! It's giving me everything about the planet itself! Mass, density, continental shelves, the depth of the ocean, the currents, the rotation of the axis and the what are you doing?" Distracted he looked over as John was accessing another screen. "That's a star chart."

"Yes, it is. Wow, nothing gets by you," John quipped. Inputting the recent mission's location.

"Ha ha. Seriously, what are you doing?"

"I thought your own stuff was fascinating."

"It is, but I can multi-task. Why are you bringing up that planet?"

"Just curious, is all." He studied the chart. Brought up another one as his fingers slid across the keys. The power hummed happily under his touch. Filling the screen. He sat suddenly, becoming more intent as he entered more data.

"John? Aren't those recent missions?" Rodney asked, scooting closer. Ignoring his own work as he watched the line of planets on the screen. Their identifications highlighted.

"Yeah. Just checking. How's that alien scanner doing? Accessing all of our primary systems now?"

"What? No!" Rodney whirled in his chair, scowled. He shut down the device. Disconnected it from the computer. "It's nearly finished now anyway." He turned back to see more planets highlighted on a grid. "Why are you tracking recent missions?"

John was silent. A scowl on his handsome face. He brought up a larger star chart. Implemented his findings. "What does this look like to you? Wait! Let me overlay this." He brought up another grid of planets. Interposed the two together. Frowning now.

Rodney eyed the screen. "Off the top of my head, I'd say nothing. Two differing projection patterns. Going in two different directions. What's that second one anyway? John?"

"That's what I thought. And this one?" He added yet another layer.

"That one is entirely different from the other two. What is that? John? Are you running covert missions now?"

"No...but I may have to do just that, Rodney." He shut it down suddenly. The screen went dark, the data fleeing at his touch. "I'll be damned..."

"What is it? What did you see that I didn't?" Rodney asked, baffled.

John glanced at his friend. "I think we've been compromised, Rodney. No, I know we have. The question is why."

"Compromised? What the hell does that mean? And who? Who? The Wraith? A Wraith worshiper or, or a Genii spy or, or a–"

"No, nothing like that," John assured. He glanced up at Elizabeth's office. Debating. Looked back at Rodney who was watching him, a mixture of alarm and puzzlement on his face. He looked at the Stargate. The giant stone circle standing sentinel. Without a word he spun on his heels and departed.

Moira was sitting on the bed, legs crisscrossed, book balanced in her lap. She was munching on some chips. Frowning at the book, the words on the page. She set the bag of chips aside, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Licked her lips and sipped some water. She touched her abdomen, feeling carefully. Wondering at the tiny life inside her. Her baby. John's son.

"Moy? I need your is there a problem?" John asked abruptly, interrupting his own request as he neared the bed. Staring.

She met his gaze. Smiled. "What? No, nothing like that." She set the book aside. "I was just reading, is all. What do you need, John?"

"Reading?" He sat close. Lifted the book. Saw it was about pregnancy. He smiled. Set it aside. "Ah. This is the kind of research you should be doing, sweetheart."

"But I doubt it's the kind you need. So? What did you need?"

"I need your migratory projection."

"Oh." She moved but he stopped her.

"Let me." He stood. Grabbed the laptop off the table. Moved back to sit next to her. "Show me, Moira."

"Okay." She opened the computer and brought up the data. "What's going on, John?"

"Not sure yet." He grabbed the bag of chips, began munching as she worked. "You sure you're okay, sweetheart?"

"Yes, just resting, sweetie. Don't you worry." She tapped the keyboard. "There."

"May I?" He took the laptop, setting the chips aside. Brought up his earlier grids. Overlapping them one by one. Expression serious.

Moira eyed him. Eyed the screen. Scooted closer, touching his thigh. "John?"

John was scowling again. "Just as I thought. Look at this, Moira. They don't intersect. Only a few points, and those are few and far between. What does that tell you? That tells me that we are being deliberately guided away from those points of interest. Okay, maybe I'm being paranoid and it could be coincidence but what if it's not? What then? I mean it's right here!" He tapped the screen.

Moira shook her head. "What is?" she asked, only seeing a proliferation of star charts, of planets on planets. "John?"

He glanced at her. "We're being guided away from it, Moira. The question is why. And by whom. You see this?" He traced his finger along a blue line. "This is the track of our recent missions. Across the galaxy. The planets we've visited. This," he traced a finger along a green line, "is your migratory projection. This," he traced a finger along a red line, "is the deserted planets where we found alien tech and have been temporarily unable to pursue that line of inquiry. This," he traced a finger along a violet line, "is mission logs from the past six months. Before...before whatever happened happened."

"Something happened?" Moira studied the screen. The various lines. The planets. "You think we're being guided away from those particular planets we're researching? Why?"

"Hell if I know," he admitted. "It doesn't make any sense, does it?"

"No." Moira took the laptop from him, perusing it closely. "You, you don't think it's deliberate, do you?" she asked, voice falling softly. Gaze following the colored lines until they blurred.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, his arm slipping round her, drawing her close. Secure. "You tell me. Use that science brain of yours, sweetheart, because my military one is trained to spot all sorts of conspiracies. Even if they may not be there. All these missions to these non-threatening, obsequious worlds. Why? I mean I know we need allies and all of that, but we need to expand our missions to encompass all the worlds that have a Stargate in order to gather as much intel as we can. Right? Even if it is dangerous, or unknown. We need to push further out there, those outer planets. Find what is out there, don't we? I'm sure the Ancients did. I know the Wraith are even as we speak. Maybe those other aliens too, before they were wiped out. So what's stopping us? Or rather who?"

Moira closed the laptop. Suddenly snuggled against him. Disturbed. "John? You...you don't think...you...Elizabeth?" she whispered.

He kissed her brow. "Honestly, I don't know. That doesn't make any sense either."

Moira rested her head on his shoulder. Tracing circles on his chest. "Then what does?" she asked softly. He was silent, pondering her question. Relaxing with her in his arms. Her body pressed to his. Her warmth and love encompassing him.

"I don't know...but I will find out," he quietly assured.


End file.
